


wings covered in sheet metal

by blood_on_my_carpet_again, shark (blood_on_my_carpet_again)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: <3 love y'all, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, BTW, Child Abuse, Dehumanization, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt, Happy TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Help, Hurt No Comfort, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, OH DEATH BTW, Oh, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Child Abuse, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Psychological Torture, Technoblade Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Has Braided Hair (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), There will be death, Torture, Unhappy Ending, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Wilbur Soot, and graphic violence, anyways pog thru the pain everybody!, but..., comfort is a possibility... if i feel like it, expect wild plot points, god betrayed me, i am creating intentional pain!, i do NOT have a set plot. :D, i just want to make people cry., idk - Freeform, im not gonna say torture, in reference to the drugs, insanity warning, its all just potions, its what i do for my daily dopamine need ok, just a warning, maybe..., so now im writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29526618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blood_on_my_carpet_again/pseuds/blood_on_my_carpet_again, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blood_on_my_carpet_again/pseuds/shark
Summary: mmmmhyrbid au but make it post-apocalyptic. tommy and tubbo are "brothers" but they aren't related, sam cares for them! they don't show up much tho, sooooo..anyways techno-centric fic. :] cuz i said so.world where the sun gives off very little heat now, people get sun-sickness if not bundled in enough layers of clothing... which could lead to some disastrous torture techniques ngl. uh anyways...Technoblade, Wilbur, and Philza are a family of mercenaries turning in a bounty at one of the only cities left in their vicinity, it's too bad somebody placed a bounty on them as well, huh.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & Phil Watson & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit & Awesamdude & Tubbo, jschlatt & technoblade
Comments: 13
Kudos: 127





	1. the start of a not so very good eventful life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops.
> 
> TW: potions used as drugs basically, ehh sorta graphic desc. of dead person, possibly a kidnapping idk
> 
> word count: 5556ish
> 
> ages:
> 
> Phil: 35  
> Wilbur: 15ish  
> Techno: 14  
> Tommy: 11  
> Tubbo: 12

The surrounding area was bleak and boring, the sun was high in the sky yet it gave off little heat. There was barely any foliage around, the lack of warmth made it hard for things to grow. People wandered around listlessly, although they weren’t  _ really _ people, they were consumed by sun sickness and the words of a raving lunatic stuck in their head. You had to cover up in multiple layers if you wanted to try and protect yourself from sun sickness, while it did help a bit, it ultimately came down to how much exposure you’d been in and genes. 

Through the crowd of suncatchers, such was the name for the infected, was a group of three. Covered in dull colored clothing, not counting the boy in the middle, armor under the ragged cloth, gas masks covered their faces; unrecognizable. Their footsteps were quiet, obviously trained to be so, they walked through the crowd easily. They wouldn’t attack you if you had a face covering.

In the not so far off distance was a large city, surrounded by walls made out of a copper-like metal. Skyscrapers that looked hand-built and worn stood over the walls, sunken into the dome-like structure of it all, yet was still protected by such. Lights were blotting the city out from the horizon, it made the sight blend together due to blurring of their vision. The sun was too bright to make out certain details in the distance. While, it was hard to see in the day, such was even harder at night when the moon didn’t feel like showing it’s face.

* * *

The city was bustling with people, it usually did at this time of day. The centre of the city was full of stands and shops littering the corners of the streets. Groups of adults and children shopped around, there was a lot of noise here; almost too much noise for his liking.

Technoblade removed his mask, revealing long tusks and scars trailing his face. He stuffed the mask into a bag that was slung over his shoulder. It was nice to take it off once in a while, the city had walls to keep the suncatchers out of trouble. He shuddered a bit, making sure his hood was on. While he could technically take it off, people weren’t that accepting of hybrids.

Technically people as a whole were a lot more accepting of most things ever since the apocalypse hit, even though the worst of that was over and it was just the outcome of people’s actions now. Hybrids were still treated as half-off people of societies, used as throwaway pawns for others. While it was also harder for them to be consumed by sun-sickness due to their mob blood, it would make them go mad in more excruciating manners; almost reverting back to animalistic nature. 

Sentient mobs weren’t susceptible to sun-sickness which not only made them good soldiers but also made them almost hated by most. Jealousy took over humans quickly when it came to not being able to do everything that others could. Whether it be due to species divide or class issues.

Wilbur was nearby, the other boy had a tendency to get into legal trouble, well more so trouble in general; which wasn’t a good thing in the city. It was one thing in smaller villages, but the cities had strict policies and an even stricter legal system depending on where you went.

Punishments were known to most, and hybrids got the shittier end of it. ( _ The treatment sentient mobs got was even worse. _ ) Which wasn’t good for anybody in his family, considering they were all a hybrid of some sorts. These “punishments” or “sentences” could range from working off your crime to complete sun exposure until madness.

He was on Wilbur’s heels the whole way, Phil had asked him to do so. Techno browsed the shops with Wil, keeping one eye on him as he looked at weapons. He would need a new sword soon his was starting to break. His fingers brushed against the weapon’s point, drawing a single bead of blood from his pointer finger. He stuck the finger in his mouth, stopping the bleeding eventually.

“Tech, c’mere, look what I found!” Wilbur popped up from behind a different stand. “It’s a fucking guitar!” He held it up for Techno to see, who gave a hum in response. The guitar was made out of a rich mahogany wood, the strings were thick and they didn’t look like they’d snap easily. Waves were carved into the body of the guitar, it made him miss the ocean.

Techno had played a violin when he was younger, Phil had bought it for him. While he wasn’t the biggest fan of music, it gave him something to do that wasn’t violent. He took the guitar from Wil, checking the price tag around its neck.

“Eh, it actually isn’t that bad of a price.” Technoblade shrugged, handing the guitar back to the boy. “If you wanna blow your whole allowance on that, be my guest.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “I’m thinking about it. I mean, you got to have a violin, I want to at least learn how to play  _ something _ . I really like music, and you just… don’t.”

Techno nudged him playfully, “Oh, of course. I prefer stabbing things and planting potatoes.” He did enjoy music, but playing the violin eventually grew boring for him. Well, he could still play whenever he wanted to, dear old muscle memory. 

“We can only grow potatoes. We can literally grow nothing else, you’re just the victim of a situation you can’t control.” Wilbur put a hand over his forehead dramatically, waving the other around with a long drawn out sigh. “If only we could grow like… spinach.”

Technoblade laughed, “Spinach? Why would we grow spinach? Why not fruit?”

“Hey, greens are important, Technoblade.” Wilbur shook his finger at Techno, a solemn expression playing out across his features.

They put the guitar back, now trying to catch up to Phil who was most likely turning in their bounties. They weaved through the crowd of people shopping in the centre, Wilbur had a tight grip on Techno’s wrist, who had the knack of getting lost among seas of people rather easily. He never really meant to, but it was an overwhelming feeling of just people, and he wasn’t good around people.

There was always just so much talking, so many bodies bumping into each other, and there was never a clear way out. People could stampede just like animals could, you’d get trampled in seconds in case anything ever happened. Humans always reverted to animalistic nature in mind-breaking fear and stressful situations, which was hypocritical of them when they judged hybrids for just doing the same. 

Low and behold, Phil was in fact standing at the bounty counter inside the Mercenary Inn, chatting with the shop and bounty keep. Techno tried to recall their names, but came up short. He had problems remembering names ever since he was a kid, which wasn’t the worst thing, but there were other problems there. Phil waved them over, once they had reached the counter Wilbur let go of his wrist promptly.

“Hey you two, find anything fun in the market?” Phil was leaning against the counter, his wings pulled back comfortably. He had never hidden his wings, Phil took pride in his hybrid heritage, he tried to get his children to be more comfortable with it. However, bad experiences left a foul taste in Wilbur’s and Techno’s mouths whenever they had their features on full display. Unkind people and unkind actions weren’t the greatest thing to experience at a young age. 

“I found a guitar! It’s really nicely made as well!” Wilbur started talking all about the nice strings it had as Technoblade began to zone out; thinking about how long the walk home was going to be and what sword would be the best for him to buy in the city centre and not the city blacksmith.

The city blacksmith did have good tools, weapons,  _ and _ he made weighted arrows. Arrows were a necessity now, they were quiet and didn’t attract much towards you. They were the best thing to opt out for if you were going hunting. Even though Techno had only been once or twice with Phil, they had been looking for a properly weighted sword for Phil, who had broken his last one. He really wanted a nice sword, the only problem with the blacksmith was the pricing, they just didn’t want to spend that much money for specialty weapons.

“What about you, Techno? Find anything?” Wilbur had promptly muttered something about swords to Phil who laughed in response. Techno looked up, he had been staring at the floor while he was lost in thought. 

“Meh, mostly just iron. I wanted netherite… or diamond would’ve worked as well though,” Technoblade messed with one of his gold piercings, twisting it around gently. “It’d be better, especially if I enchanted it.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, nudging him with his foot. “Alright. Jeez, I forget how violent you are outside of family time… always talking about weapons n’ shit.” Wilbur wasn’t much of a fighter, well… he was. He just didn’t enjoy it as much as he did playing tricks and stealing, he thought that Wilbur seldomly missed the time when it was just him and Techno against the world. Stealing and cheating their way through life, well, until Phil caught them and took them in. That felt like forever ago though.

Techno shrugged, weapons were important. It was good to keep swords and bows in good condition. He had his iron sword for forever, it really needed to be replaced. The bountykeep returned with a bag of gold, handing it to Phil along with a note.

Wilbur had spotted it as well, “Is that another bounty?” He peered over his father’s shoulder, he was being nosy again. His wings were tucked underneath his cloak, but if you looked closely you could see his primary feathers just barely sticking out. It was good that they were growing back in finally.

“No, it’s something different, Wil.” Phil folded the note up before Wilbur could read what was on it, who had in turn responded with a complaint. Why did he do that? Phil was never secretive around them, was he? Had his father been hiding something from them without Techno noticing?

“Whatever, stingy old man with his personal information.” Wilbur teased him, to which Phil rolled his eyes. They were both used to Wilbur’s taunting banter. “I’m bored here, you don’t let me drink so I have no reason to be in here.” Wilbur did complain about not being able to drink quite a bit, always using the argument of how it was a fucked up world and that he should be able to do what he wanted. Phil never had any of that though, it was always the same with him, they were just kids, and kids should stay kids as long as they could.

Which was a bit of a problematic statement considering they murdered people half the time they went to hunt down bounties. It’s not that Phil  _ wanted _ to, it’s just that most of the people they went after were not the greatest moral-wise. Techno didn’t mind it though, it was just a job after all.

Wilbur turned around on his heel, now leaving the shop. His cloak swayed behind him, revealing his wings just a bit more. Thankfully people in the inn knew them all well, they were treated respectfully, after all they were well-known mercenaries.

Well, more bounty hunters than they were mercs now, it was a tough season recently and it was easier to get money from collecting bounties than trying to advertise services. So they had to do what they did best, get through it. Technoblade did prefer doing mercenary work, it paid better and the jobs were more stimulating, it kept his attention better than bounty work.

Techno sighed following after Phil tried to catch up to Wilbur who was speeding through the crowd. Presumably back to the instrument stand to buy that damn guitar, or at least until they reached it and he was nowhere to be seen. Instead people whose faces were just nobodies walked through the small strip that held specialty shops; somewhere where Wilbur was supposed to be.

An internalized bit of panic struck Techno, he was always with Wilbur. Wilbur would joke around about them being twins despite looking nothing alike and not even being the same hybrid type. They were however the about same age and they had done everything together for years.

He couldn’t have gotten that far, he must’ve gotten distracted by something important. What could that have been? Shit, he lost him, he was supposed to keep an eye on him. He was always getting into dumb shit, he had already gotten warnings from officers in the area. Not only that, he had been uncharacteristically careless ever since they’d come home from their last bounty hunt.

Phil sighed, “He’s probably off doing something he isn’t supposed to, I’ll look over this side of the city, you get the other?” Techno shrugged uncomfortably, giving his father a small salute before leaving the other man to his side.

Techno had been running around the left side of the city, looking for his dumb winged brother. The idiot couldn’t even fly, his primaries had been clipped two months ago in an accidental run-in with other bounty hunters, they were almost done growing back. Until they were, Wilbur wouldn’t be flying for a while.

That really hadn’t been a good time. The other bounty hunters were on their necks the whole time, wanting to take out the competition. They were just lucky that their mercenary background gave them a few more tricks up their sleeve. While the other group had grabbed Wilbur as a way to slow them down, they got the bounty anyways. 

Wilbur was never the one to get lost in crowds or to not make a scene. It wasn’t like him to just slip off, he’d always be close enough to either Phil or Techno himself. It also didn’t help that the boy kept his wings covered, while Techno understood why, it made it a lot harder to spot him in the crowd. His height did help enough, Wilbur was tall and lanky… like a ferret.

Techno swept his bangs away from his face, he needed to trim them at least. He enjoyed having the long hair, but it made certain things a lot harder than they should’ve been. Taking long strides into an alleyway, maybe Wilbur was rooting around in the trash; it wouldn’t have been the first time.

A sudden wave of nausea hit his body, starting to step back hoping he’d stay on his feet. He hadn’t eaten anything weird; had he? Shaking his head he leaned against the wall of a building, trying to focus on the ground, which was now nicely spinning in a record-like manner.

That was odd, he coughed a few times, his throat hurt? He swallowed the collecting saliva in his mouth, trying to clear away the nasty taste of it. It cleared up suddenly, leaving behind only a cloudy feeling in his head, like when you stand up much too quickly.

Techno blinked a few times, grounding himself once more. That hadn’t happened… ever. He pushed himself off the wall, hopefully walking would clear the weird funk in his head; drawing a hand over his face, he wandered further into the back of the alley. 

Graffiti plastered the building walls, it wasn’t unusual in the cities. Most of the time the graffiti was either some sort of anti-government movement for the area or something stupid teens put up. He traced the grooves of the brick with his hand, easily distracted by the individual colors and slogans put up. He hadn’t seen a lot of color recently, it was a nice change; mostly he had to look at Wilbur’s awful yellows.

Oh shit, Wilbur. Techno dragged himself out of his focus on the brick walls and graffiti, whirling around to leave the alleyway. His cloak fell behind him as he walked through the puddles of dirty water, it had recently rained, which wasn’t a very common occurrence anymore. Yet he still scowled, Techno had just washed the cloak a day or so ago; sure he had a knack of getting things dirty, but he still cared if it was  _ right _ after he just washed something.

He had focusing issues, there wasn’t a name for it. Well, that he knew of at least. Yet there were definite symptoms of it, he was known to forget things, even if they were important. He had the innate ability to focus on the completely wrong thing or to seldomly focus solely on the correct thing. It usually correlated to whatever was more stimulating for his under stimulated brain. Thankfully, the colors reminded him of Wilbur and he was able to snap out of whatever brain fog he was in.

Techno walked along the street corners, peering into shops, his hands cupped around his eyes. Despite not showing a lot of emotion towards his family members, he was in a state of distress. He thought of Wilbur as his right hand, something he needed,  _ something he needed to survive _ . It was the same with Phil, he was close to the two, closer than he had ever been with anything in his birthplace.

He didn’t like thinking about the Nether, it was a cruel, unforgiving nightmare of a place, and it had only gotten worse when the sun-sickness hit the overworld. Things wandered through portals, teared apart families, they had torn apart his; or what used to be his. Techno shook his head, why was focusing so hard right now? He just wanted to concentrate on finding Wilbur.

  
  


The smell of potions hit the back of his throat, warranting a cough from the sheer pain of breathing it in. His nose was more sensitive along with his hearing, which was a good and bad thing. Most of the time potions had a specific smell for each one, this smell was not a health potion because it wasn’t the sickly sweet smell. It felt intoxicating, almost weakening. 

It had to be splash potions as they weren’t drunk so the smell would spread throughout the air, which was exactly what was happening. It was almost choking him like a cloud full of something that would wither your lungs away. 

Splash potions were often stolen from stores by teenagers around the area, used to get loose and forget about the state of it all. He was used to teens in the cities using potions as a way to escape, it wasn’t something new. It was there before the apocalypse and it was still there afterwards; some things never change. He and Wilbur had tried it once, never again… Phil’s reaction and the sheer disgust of it the day after was enough for them to put it off.

Techno rounded the corner, the smell only growing worse, what the fuck were they using? Weakness had a definite play in the cloud of potion hell, he couldn’t pinpoint the other smells. What good was a heightened sense of smell if he couldn’t identify what was what? He cursed his memory issues as he was led into a corner shop.

It was small, which really didn’t help with dispersing the smell. To his surprise the only other people in there were two small children. Well, not much of a surprise really, kids these days grew up too fast for their own good; but these kids were young… really young. Technoblade accidentally crushed a piece of glass underneath his boots, which made the two kids turn around like scared animals; they looked like grade schoolers.

“Oh shit! Oh, fuck… uh, listen big man, we aren’t like doing any potions or stuff. We’re just checking this shithole out!” The blond kid spoke up, putting his hands up, the universal sign of surrender. The other boy next to him, brown hair with small horns poking out; must be a hybrid, had his shirt over his mouth. He didn’t blame the kid, the smell was pretty bad.

“Do your parents let you speak to them like that?” Techno tilted his head at the boy, he had a very vulgar vocabulary. “If you aren’t the two splashing potions about, what are you doing here? Y’know, where the smell is coming from?”

The brown haired boy sighed, “I smelled something bad from over here, this is our godmother’s shop… we wanted to check on her.”

“Yeah! Fuck off!” What was up with this kid? At least the goat ( _ was he a goat? _ ) hybrid wasn’t as much of a brat compared to the other one. “Get out of here! We didn’t invite you in!”

Technoblade opted to ignore the mouthy child, rolling his eyes at his remarks. He looked around the shop, it was obviously a bakery of some kind, signs and treats decorated the interior. It looked like something from out of his books from when he was younger.

“Well, did you find her?” Techno pulled up his cloth scarf over his mouth, approaching the two boys and the counter of the small shop. He brushed away the glass from the top of the counter, a note underneath it; ignoring the shards of glass that had dug their way into his hand.

“No… we’re worried about her… and we’re confused about why it smells like splash potions.” The little goat-hybrid peered over Techno’s side, wanting to read the note probably. “Uhm, I’m Tubbo and this is Tommy, you are?” Tommy muttered something about sharing names under his breath to Tubbo.

“I’m called Technoblade.” He peered down at the note, he couldn’t read it, a confused expression took over his face. “Can either of you read this thing? I can’t understand this language.”

It’s not that he wasn’t good at reading, in fact he prided himself in his comprehension of literature, but this was not a language he was familiar with. Common was used more than often by everybody unless you were a different species or came from a different dimension. Hybrids were usually bilingual in Common and some other language, it just depended on where you grew up and who taught you what. This however, was not Common.

Tommy took the note from the counter, “Well, since Tubbo has a hard time reading, I will be the designated reader of the note from Puffy.” He cleared his throat while getting an annoyed glare from Tubbo. “It says that she’s out grabbing more supplies for the bakery and that she’ll be back sometime later today… but nothing about the potion problem.”

Techno hummed, making his way towards the back of the shop, the two boys following behind him quickly. He pushed open the kitchen door, immediately greeted by a bloody mess, spreading out his hands and cloak to shield the little boys.

“Eh, heh… uh, turn around?” He shuffled around on his feet a bit, if this was their god-mother in the back of the shop it wasn’t going to be a good time. As much as Techno didn’t really care for children, he wasn’t looking to traumatize two kids. 

“Why? What’s back there? Let me see, I’m no bitch!” Tommy tried to peer around his cloak.

“...Maybe we should let Technoblade check it out for us, Tommy. What if it’s something bad?” Tubbo pulled on the other boy’s sleeve. “I wanna know as well, but…”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Only for you Tubbo, only for you.” The boy stepped back with the goat-hybrid child, they stepped into the counter area; shutting the door behind them.

Techno sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, walking closer towards the smell and the large puddle of blood in the middle of the kitchen. Well, it… didn’t resemble… a person? At least it didn’t anymore, it was a bloody ravaged wreck of something that used to be more whole. 

A large gash ripped through the flesh of the being, it’s face, or where it was supposed to be was peeled back to reveal flesh and bone; fun. The body laid broken in a puddle of its own viscera, he walked around to the other side of it, looking for some sort of recognizable feature or item. He wasn’t one to get sick over gore, but this was something else. Somebody had carved this person up, into… just pieces, stripped them of any sort of humanity, unrecognizable to anybody who would’ve known them before.

His stomach lurched, a single feather laid in the blood. It soaked up the dark liquid around the edges. Techno picked it up, twirling it around in between his finger-tips, the feather was a rich brown, almost gold at the ends. It was definitely Wilbur’s…

However, this body was missing wings, and Wilbur had wings. Viciously mutilating corpses wasn’t Wilbur’s style, or at least it wasn’t that he knew of. There wasn’t much to identify the body with, the clothing was as drab as everybody else’s, well, unless you liked yellow. The body did have a single earring, a silver star dangled at the end of it.

Techno yanked the earring from the body’s ear, bloodying his hand. This body was definitely not Wilbur, he hadn’t worn earrings in a while, except for the one emerald he shared with Phil and Techno himself. A sign of family and friendship between the three. However, just to make sure this wasn’t something of their god-mother’s, he went to ask the boys about it. He opened the door, met with two arguing children.

“Aw, shut up Tubbo! I doubt he’d fucking murder Puffy!” Tommy was screaming curses at the other boy.

“We just met him! He just so happened to be around the damn area and now we’re leaving him  _ alone _ with a  **dead body** . How do we know if he didn’t come back just to destroy the fucking evidence!” Tubbo waved his hands around wildly using a whisper-like shout, before being stopped in his tracks, hearing Techno clear his throat.

“You two done?” He rolled his eyes at the boys before holding up the earring. “This mean anything to you two?” Techno sighed, he was used to not being trusted by others, his appearance of a Nether-born hybrid was something people were afraid of. 

Tommy shrugged, “Nah, not anything I know. You’d have to ask my dad about metal stuff and shit like that.” The blond kid looked uncomfortable, probably because he had been caught arguing about Techno with Tubbo.

“It could be an insignia… I don’t know though, we don’t know a lot about bounty hunters and gangs. Whatever it may be.” Tubbo touched the earring with a hand, keeping his touch far away from the blood. “But, it definitely isn't Puffy’s.”

“Alright. Good news, the dead mutilated body in the kitchen is eighty percent not your godmother, bad news, I have no idea where your godmother is.” Techno shoved the earring in his pocket. “Better news for me, I have to leave. I’m busy looking for a person of my own.”

“What?! You can’t just leave us, we’re children! What a cold-hearted bitch you are, Technoblade. I expected so much more!” Tommy yelled at him, which was starting to hurt his sensitive ears.

“You just said your dad was around, go bother him with your troubles, kid. I’ll relay any info about your godmother if I find anything, and look, if she doesn’t come back from her shopping… maybe if I’m in the area and you pay me, we can do some more lookin’.” Techno shrugged, money was money. Maybe he felt bad for the two kids, maybe just a little, but he wasn’t going to admit that. They did remind him a bit of Wilbur and himself… when they were younger.

“Oh… you must be like one of those mercenary guys. Come on Tommy, we should go tell Sam about Puffy, let’s stop bothering Technoblade. He’s busy looking for somebody important as well.” Tubbo tried his best to calm Tommy’s barrage of insults, who wasn’t even remotely paying attention to the fact that Techno was now leaving into the kitchen again.

* * *

Techno sighed, wandering around the kitchen, he walked back towards the body, looking around for something; just even a glimpse of his brother. He followed the shelves of the kitchen farther towards the back, where he found a door most likely leading behind the store.

Feathers littered the ground, matching the one of Wilbur’s in his pocket. Why had his brother been in such a hurry and in such a random place as well? Was somebody chasing him? Had Wilbur happened upon the corpse and the people who were responsible for the mutilation of such chasing after him? Questions, questions with answers for none.

There was the potion dilemma as well, he hadn’t seen a puddle of liquids or the glass and tops from the splash potions. Why were they used here, what were they used for? Who had used them? Techno opened the door walking into the back plot of the store, most places didn’t have this, but due to the bakery being in a roundabout there was extra space in the back.

Ah, there was the potion mess, it must’ve spread it’s foul stench towards the front of the store and sidewalk as well; which means there was a high concentration of the ingredients in this mixture. He crouched down next to it, still holding his scarf over his nose and mouth, the mixture was murky like weakness potions. Slowness might have been involved as well, but he couldn’t tell. A iridescent shimmer was shown in the puddle, which was a tell-tale sign of invisibility, Techno sighed rocking back and forth on his heels.

So whoever did this, splashed somebody, not necessarily Wil, but might as well have been, with some sort of weakness slowness concoction; then splashing themselves and the victim with the invisibility potion and carrying them off. It was the answer and conclusion that made the most sense.

Wilbur had gotten himself involved in something, he just knew it. Techno could feel it. He didn’t know how, but his gut was telling him that something had happened to Wilbur, and that he needed to find Phil. He got up from his crouching position, brushing his sweaty palms on his pant legs.

He pulled out his communicator, it was old-fashioned but it worked just as well as anything newer. The small light in the corner blinked green as he turned it on, Technoblade contacted Phil with a press of a button. A keyboard showed up, a hologram in front of his hands. It was too bad technology was so dependent on redstone… such resources were hard to come by now.

_ “Phil, where are you? I have leads on Wilbur.” _

_ “Shit, you didn’t find him? Where the fuck did he go off to?” _

_ “Dunno, I don’t think it was of his own free will though, it looks like it was a kidnapping or something.” _

_ “A what? Shit, okay. I’m at the Town Hall, I was checking if he got arrested. You know Wil.” _

_ “Yeah, but I don’t know where Wil is, time to play Where’s Waldo.” _

_ “Har har, hurry up. See you here.” _

_ “Buh-bye.” _

Techno turned off his communicator with a click, a hand running over his face tiredly. It had been a long week, they had just gotten back from bounty hunting, and he was looking forward to getting a bed in the inn. He really just wanted a good night’s sleep. Sleeping in the overworld was so much nicer than it was in the Nether, well it would be considering the whole bed thing. Techno had to sleep on the ground, which was always uncomfortably warm in the Nether most days.

He left the back of the shop, returning the way he came. Thankfully Tommy and Tubbo had left him in peace, he had felt bad for the kids though. If they’d lost Phil… Wilbur and Techno would probably be at their wit’s end. He shuffled through the front of the shop, aware of all the glass littering the ground. Somebody had definitely broken in, so the shop wasn’t a breeding ground for criminals at least.

Techno sighed, getting ready to head out to the Town Hall, Phil and him needed to make a game plan about what was happening. He also had to come up with a way to explain the whole potion conclusion of his, and why it made the most sense.

He was about to take a step forward until his world started spinning. Again? Techno didn’t have anything to lean against, his body swaying, threatening to fall. He shuffled his feet around, trying to center his balance, his peripheral vision began to darken; spots blotting his limited vision. With that, he fell, barely aware of what was happening, maybe it’d be nice to close his eyes. The world was just spinning too fast, it was too much to handle right now. Maybe he’d just close them for a moment.  _ Technoblade was out. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) so anyways. poggerrs!


	2. aw, stop talking in my head, you aren't welcome here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *popcat noises*
> 
> oh, hello! uh, welcome back to another chapter. I have a... lemme read this note... ah yes, I have brotherly interactions in a not so very good predicament. here you go you touch-starved and family-missing losers. enjoy it while it lasts. or not. wait what?
> 
> TW: nothing really? some light talk about blood and drugs(potions)
> 
> smaller chapter. for reasons.

_ “Hey, Tech? Techie? Technoooo?” _ A voice bounced around in his head, it pained him to even think about opening his eyes. He tried to rub his eyes to help with the sleepiness, but found them not wanting to move as much as he did. He must be too tired to move.

_ Wake up. _

_ Idiot. _

With a sigh he opened his eyes, only to be immediately blinded by a bright light. He blinked it away, trying to adjust his vision to his surroundings. Why did he feel like he just ate thirty pounds of sand?

You know that feeling when your skin feels dry and taught, like fabric drawn out taught? That’s about how he felt right now. Techno shivered, it was cold out; looking down to find that he had just a fraction of the usual bundles of clothing he had on. While he probably didn’t need as much as he usually put on, he was naturally more susceptible to the cold.

“Oh, shit.” Techno had finally looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was not where he used to be, at all.

In front of him was in fact Wilbur, who was passed out. His head lolled to the side, dried blood crusted to the side of his face. He was still breathing, his annoying yellow sweater rose and fell with each short breath. The worst part of the picture in front of him was his brother’s wings.

They were bloodied and feathers stuck out at odd angles. He didn’t even want to look at the almost broken way they sat behind him. Techno sighed, he had already gone through so much trouble with his wings before, who felt the need to keep destroying his brother’s body?

He sat up a bit straighter, almost immediately noticing that he was also tied up; that probably wasn’t great. Nausea hit him again, thankfully this wasn’t one that made him want to pass out. It was the feeling of sickness after eating or drinking something that upset your stomach. 

“Wilbur? Wil? Hey, wake up.” Techno stared at his brother’s face, wincing a bit at the large bruise covering his cheek. 

Wilbur shuffled around a bit, his eyes slightly opening at his voice. He sat up a bit straighter, obviously wildly confused by his surroundings. The boy almost immediately perked up even though he looked beat to shit.

“Oh fuck.” Wilbur hit his head on the pole dug into the ground, probably to help clear his head. “Shit. Techno, what the fuck.”

“Good explanation, Wil,” A smile grew on Techno’s face. “Morning sleepyhead, how’s it going?”

Wilbur glared at him, rolling his eyes a few seconds later. “I feel like I just ate dust and shit. Where the fuck are we?”

“I dunno, probably outside.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Wilbur shook his head, wincing at the way his wings hung heavy at his sides. “I don’t even remember how I got here. We were followed or something.”

Techno gave a hum in response, turning to look at where his pack was supposed to be, finding nothing in return. His communicator wasn’t in his pocket anymore, which means it was definitely taken or he had lost it.

“I’m betting Phil has no clue where we are. I didn’t mean to run off or anything, but I got distracted by somebody.”

“I swear to god, if you got distracted by somebody’s belongings…”

“Listen, I wasn’t going to say that, but you always assume the worst of me, Technoblade.” Wilbur made a frowny face, pouting like a little kid. “Yeah, I wanted this person’s cool pen…”

Techno snorted, it was undoubtedly Wilbur he was talking to. “Okay Wilbur. So we’re in this clusterfuck because you wanted a pen? Is that it?”

Wilbur shrugged, a smile forming on his face. What a shit-eating grin for somebody in a fucked-up situation. “Hey, it was cool. Anyways, I’ve noticed that we are in fact under the sun. Big ol’ good old pal the sun, love em’ to bits, but we’re going to start losing it.”

“It’ll take a while for that to start happening, Wil. I mean, maybe you’ll get some more side-effects before me, but that’s because you’ve always been a little off the rocker.”

“Aw fuck you. I’m saner than you are, Mr. Blood for the Blood God.” Wilbur tried to kick at him, failing only by a few inches. Curse his long legs.

“A joke from when we were younger. Nothing more to it, Wilbur. I wasn’t the one getting us into dumb situations, but at least your dumb ideas got us to Phil.” Techno rolled his eyes. “I can thank you for that one.”

“Speaking of Phil, where’s the old man?” Wilbur slumped down against his post, blowing the few strands of his hair out of his face. “I’m pretty sure they broke my wings, which I can’t set back into place for them to heal right.”

“You’re just incompetent. If you paid more attention to our at-home lessons you’d know more.” Technoblade sat up straighter only to fall back into a hunching position. A sharp pain wrecked his abdomen, biting back a whimper.

“They got you too.” Wilbur laughed at him. “You okay though?”

“Meh, nothing that hasn’t happened before.. I think?” Techno tried to shuffle around his coat without his hands. “Aw, nah… there’s blood. I got nailed by something.”

Wilbur sighed, “Nice. I’m having a hard time moving, I mostly just want to go back to sleep.”

“You weren’t sleeping, you were fucking out. Like, knocked out, completely blacked out.”

“Shuddap, you’re annoying me, Techno. Go back to when you didn’t curse, stop being in pain, it makes you less intelligent.” Wilbur stuck his tongue out at him. “That’s my job.”

“Uh-huh. Go back to bed, Wilbur, you’re grouchy.” Technoblade stared at the sky, it was unnecessarily bright today. “On second thought, don’t, you’ll get crazier faster that way.”

“No shit Sherlock, it’s not safe to sleep in full fucking sunlight. Not only that, we have literally no face coverings, we are totally fucked!” Wilbur thrashed around a bit until he moved one of his wings around, letting out a small squeak of pain.

“That was your own damn fault, stop acting like you’re ten again.”

Techno shut his eyes slightly, resting his head against the wooden post. They were not in a fun situation, not only that… the question of who put them here and why did they do so was currently dominating any other thoughts in his head. Another group of bounty hunters? Did they have a bounty on their heads? If they did, why weren’t they dead or being taken into a bounty holding? Unless they weren’t actually the people with bounties on their heads and just bait. Bait for who?

“You good?” Wilbur peered at him, brown eyes echoing his own. “You look fucking stupid.”

“I’m thinking Wil, something you should do more.” Techno huffed, starting to get a little annoyed. “Is the sun already getting to your head?”   
  
Wilbur laughed, a little too manically if Techno had any say in it. “No! I think it’s the blood loss and the numbness in my wings!”

Techno shook his head, he loved Wilbur, he really really did… but this was not his usual routine. He was freaked out, he probably didn’t expect to be jumped and drugged yesterday. Not only that, on top of such actions, he was broken and bloody when he woke up, so he probably wasn’t all there mentally or physically.

“Just take a nap, Wil. It’ll be better on the both of us.”

Wilbur gave a little shrug before trying to get comfortable in the dust-like dirt beneath them. He winced slightly moving his wings around, but they covered his body like a blanket and a way to block the sun out in no time.

_ Hey? _

_ Hello? _

_ Pay attention to us. _

_ I don’t like being ignored. _

_ Neither do I for that matter. _

_ Dumb pig. _

As if his day couldn’t get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so anyways... i've been reading about torture techniques. 
> 
> have a good day/night!


	3. peer pressure isn't cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, kinda panic attack vibe, vomit (not described in detail), and i suppose sorta being pressured into acts of cannibalism. 
> 
> hi... how's it going...? everybody doing well? great, great.

Well, he didn’t really remember moving places that much. Other than the pained struggle it was for Wilbur to actually move around. His center of balance was completely off, such was because of his wings hanging at his sides. Of course it was a little hard for himself to move like he wanted to, but his body accepted the movement better.

He was right in assuming that the people keeping them captive were bounty hunters, they all wore some sort of guild motif on their clothing. Not only that they made sure to cover their faces well, he was unable to picture what was under any of the cloth.

Except for one, who had a mask, it was beaten and dirty. Yet it still was a stark white compared to the area they were in. It was a circle, but the worst part of it was the two dot eyes and a thin smile crudely carved into it. It gave Techno bad vibes, and his gut checks were usually correct.

Wilbur had done his usual complaining and was making snarky remarks for the first few minutes before being silenced by one of the bounty hunters. Which if he had to be honest, made Techno’s gut turn over on itself.

The boy had now been leaning on his shoulder to support himself while walking, which was fine with him as long as he didn’t fall over. “I feel sick.”

Techno hummed, “I can’t really help you with that one.” He slipped his arm underneath Wilbur’s arm, propping him up better. “You did just get the shit beat out of you again, so…” 

Wilbur laughed a breathy kind of laugh, he looked ready to pass out. “See I’m good at that, people really like to beat the crap out of me, it’s a superpower, Techie.”

“Not a good kind of superpower.” Techno frowned, he was used to taking care of Wilbur after he did his usual dumb stunts and odd crimes. However, he hadn’t been wrecked like this around him since Phil found them and took them in.

Obviously the bounty hunters didn’t expect them to try anything, considering there were no chains or ropes to bound their wrists together. Techno had to agree with their line of thinking, they were both hurt and wouldn’t get far. Still, it made him sick, a grimace spread across his face.

_ Is he going to be okay? _

_ Poor Wilby… _

_ Where’s Phil? _

_ I miss Phil. _

_ Who are these guys? _

Techno immediately saddened at the thought of Phil, where was their father figure when they needed him? They couldn’t be that far away, after all they had only been tied up for a day or two before moving again… right? Was his sense of time screwed up? That was a dumb question, he already had a bad sense of time, but was the sun making it worse?

He knew deep-down that they were going to some sort of city or settlement, but where to? There were multiple big cities that would accept bounties, it was just a matter of which. Wilbur shifted around in his arms, probably to make himself more comfortable while walking. Techno couldn’t help stealing a glance at his wings again, they just looked terrible, but at least they weren’t gone.

He couldn't imagine what terror and kind of torture it would be to take a bird hybrid’s wings away. The feeling of helplessness that would be involved in such… Techno propped Wilbur up better, trying to take as much of the other boy’s weight as he could. Maybe he could set them back into place, to help them heal at least.

“Stop here.” Techno almost flinched, almost was the keyword. He clenched his jaw, angry at himself for just a moment. “We’re taking a break for the birdie.” He wanted to punch the smiley masked man in the face. What an ass. If he hadn’t fucked up his brother’s wings, a way for him to balance himself, they wouldn’t be here.

Not only that, they wouldn’t be in this situation if there wasn’t some sort of bounty on somebody’s head. Techno sat down with Wilbur who was out of it at this point, he sighed gritting his teeth. Which reminded himself of his tusks, he really needed to take care of them before they started to dig into his cheeks.

Wilbur rested his head on Techno’s shoulder, almost immediately passing out. He turned his head towards the bounty hunters, they were a few yards away, a fire lighting up the surrounding area. They were laughing, joking around with each other.

It disgusted him. At least Phil, Wilbur, and him had the common decency to only hunt people with bounties for a reason. Not only that they put them out of their misery quickly.

“Hey pig-boy, how’s the birdie doing? We’re trying to get the alive bounty price.” The masked man was standing above him, staring at him or more so at Wilbur. “Didn’t mean to break his wings like that, but at least they’re a clean break. If you let me bandage him up it’d be great.”

Techno glared at him, even his voice was irritating. “He’d be doing better if he wasn’t here at all, I presume.” He let the malice seep into his voice, although the man didn’t seem like he cared at all. “...You can bandage him up. It’d be better than letting his wings stay like this.

It’s not like he was going to say no. Wilbur needed the medical attention and Techno was in no mood to argue for too long. The masked man took multiple items out of the pack slung around his shoulder, crouching down now to start bandaging Wilbur’s wings.

He propped Wilbur up for the man better, watching him like a hawk. Although, if Mr. Masky started trying to do small talk he was going to get uncomfortable. Which is exactly what he did.

“So, I bet you’re confused. I mean, it’s not unusual for bounties to be placed on bounty hunters themselves, but y’know.” The masked man shrugged, wrapping Wil’s wings rather tightly, making sure to limit any movement. “Here’s a deal for you, I’ll tell you who put the bounty out if you know the reason you’re in this mess.”

Techno narrowed his eyes, he didn’t care for this man’s deal much. “I presume it’s about the way we went about doing our bounties, but I don’t really care much.”

“Ah, that was close enough. Anyways, I don’t actually have a clue who put the bounty out, it was more of an anonymous thing.”

Techno scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fuck you. Has anybody told you that you’re not very funny?”

“Has anybody told you that you look like a brute? Jesus, what thing cursed you to look like that, huh?” The man set a hand under his chin, Techno could almost feel the smugness of the smile underneath that dumb mask of his.

“Thanks, it’s genetic. I’m a hybrid, smartass.” Techno flicked an ear out of annoyance. “You probably don’t look much better, considering the whole mask thing.”

“Careful buddy, you're not the one with weapons. They never said your brother had to come in alive, just you.”

That made Techno sick. For whatever reason it could be, it must’ve had to do with hybrid abilities. Certain people had their reasons for wanting Nether-born hybrids and they were never good reasons.

“Jeez, you feeling okay? You look a little sick!” He patted his shoulder before squeezing it. Techno shrugged it off, he hated being touched in general, but this man made him uncomfortable. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop bothering you.”

* * *

His head hurt, where was he? He was just somewhere else. Why was everything so loud and so quiet at the same time?

_ This is your fault. _

_ It is. _

_ You’re hungry. _

_ You could just… eat him. _

_ That’s fucked up, do it. _

_ Y’all just have an angst problem. _

_ You do understand he’s a real person, right? _

_ He had it coming. _

Techno put his hands over his ears desperately trying to block out the voices ringing in his ears. He pushed himself farther into the corner he found himself in, staring blankly at the body a few feet away from him. Who was it?

Why couldn’t he recognize who it was? What had he done? Did he do something? He couldn’t have… he didn’t remember doing anything. Why did he feel so sick?

_ I’m getting really tired of his memory issues. _

_ I think it’s his go-to trauma response or something. _

_ Eat him. _

_ Are we really doing this one? _

_ You guys are fucked up. _

_ Eat him. _

_ Do it. _

_ It’d be funny. _

Techno curled up in the corner, clawing at his face, clamping his teeth down and into his hand. Blood welled up and spilt into his mouth, barely satisfying whatever urge had been haunting him since a few hours ago. What did they want? Why were they so loud? Who was on the floor? Why couldn’t he recognize them? Where was he?

_ This is what happens when you black out and forget shit. _

_ Yooo, did he get a brain injury? _

_ Wouldn't be surprised if he had a concussion. _

_ This is pathetic. _

_ I want blood. _

_ Blood for the Blood God! _

_ Eat him. _

_ Bet. _

_ Do it. _

He wanted to puke, he wanted to puke, he wanted to get out of here. He felt trapped, where was he? He was just… where had he just been? What was the last place he remembered?

Techno grabbed at his hair, pulling at it in a frenzy. He remembered Wilbur getting bandaged up and that was it. How had he gotten here? Why was he so hungry?  _ Why were the voices so loud? _

_ I think we broke him. _

_ Eat. _

_ Eat. _

_ Eat. _

_ Eat. _

_ Blood. _

_ It’ll be fine. _

_ You’re too hungry to think. _

_ Just eat. _

“Shut up. Please, please, please shut up. I… I’m… why do you keep trying to get me to eat them?” Techno clamped a hand over his mouth, just firm enough to let him speak out-loud still. “I don’t even know why I’m here… who are you? Wh-”

_ We’re Chatter! _

_ Chat for short. _

_ We’re here forever! _

_ We’ve been here forever. _

_ Idiot. _

_ Dumb. _

_ Technodumb. _

_ You’re hungry. _

“I know I’m hungry…”

_ Eat. _

_ Eat then. _

_ Just eat. _

_ You want to. _

_ It’s convincing, isn’t it? _

“You’re all insane. I’m not going to eat a person…” Techno almost cringed at the idea of doing such.

_ Nahhhh, Piglins do it all the time. _

_ We know, you saw. We all saw as well. _

_ The Nether is ruthless, why not be ruthless as well? _

_ Eat. _

_ You’ve done something like it before. _

_ It’s just a little farther down the crazy ballpark. _

Technoblade sat up, pulling his legs to his chest in a desperate attempt to comfort himself. “I’m… I’m not in the Nether anymore. I don’t have to…” Tears pricked his eyes, this was pathetic, why was he crying?

_ Eat. _

_ Just eat. _

_ Eat him. _

_ You’ve done it before. _

_ Remember? _

_ Eat. _

_ Hungry. _

_ Hungry. _

_ We’re hungry. _

_ Blood. _

_ Blood. _

He pushed himself up from the floor, the voices were getting louder and louder, it was so overwhelming. He felt like shoving a pickaxe through one ear and out the other in an attempt to silence the voices. “Please, shut up! I’m not going to…”

Why was he so hungry and for what exactly? He couldn’t tell. Saliva dripped from his mouth, he spat out the contents of his mouth. Disgusted by how appetizing the thoughts were making it by the second. Why?

_ This is a little much… _ _  
_ _ EAT. _

_ EAT. _ _  
_ _ EAT. _

_ BLOOD. _

_ BLOOD. _

_ BLOOD. _

_ BLOOD. _

_ BLOOD. _

_ BLOOD. _

* * *

Techno retched up the contents of his stomach, making his way back over to the corner, shivering not only from the cold but from shock. It was dark, he was barely grateful for his night-vision. In fact, he closed his eyes, trying to forget what he’d done. They were just so loud...

_ I kinda feel bad. _

_ That was… something? _

_ Maybe we let him forget this one? _

_ Yeah, uh… I don’t think that's happening. _

_ He’s gonna have nightmares for weeks. _

_ Again? _

Techno curled up unto himself, tears burning his cheeks, he could taste the blood in his mouth. He could feel how it was dry around his lips and how it was crusted onto his tusks and skin. He hated how he knew that it covered his neck, how it covered his hands. How easily the flesh had torn between his unnaturally sharp teeth.

What had he become? He felt like an animal, he didn’t feel any connection to his humanity anymore, it had left him broken and rotting. Techno sat up, his stomach lurched, almost making him bend over to discard anything left in it again. He stood up slowly, his eyes half-lidded, making his way towards the entrance of wherever he was.

He looked around, blatantly ignoring the area where the…. He was in some sort of natural cave, yet he still didn’t know how or why he was here. How long had it been? He could feel his tusks almost poking holes through his cheeks, yet he couldn’t feel it. Why couldn’t he feel it?

His bangs were longer now, enough to fall below his eyes. Brushing them away from his face he let his hair down, it had been in a messy pony-tail of some sort for a while. He ran his fingers through the knots in his hair for a few seconds before getting annoyed at the texture of it. 

He spun around in place, trying to make more sense of the place, hoping something would jog his memory. Where was Wilbur? Maybe if he could find him....? Of course, if Wilbur found him first he would notice the… the what?

Everything was fine, everything was just great. He was going to leave the cave now, he was going to walk to the nearest city or whatever… he was going to contact Phil with a communicator.

_ You should sit down. _

_ You’re going to get sick. _

_ Rest for now. _

He sat down abruptly, a hand clamped over his mouth. Why did he do that? He lowered his hand, running it through his hair, a little panicked. He didn’t have any money, he looked like he’d just murdered somebody… What was he doing?

He had murdered somebody though, he just didn’t know who. He couldn’t bring himself to look at their face, or at them in general. He couldn’t, he couldn’t do it.

_ You have to know, don’t you? _

_ It’d be better to know. _

_ Look. _

_ Look. _

_ Look. _

Techno let out a guttural whine, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. He shuffled over towards the body without looking directly at it. He was shaking, his hands trembled in a way they hadn’t since Phil had gotten after him for doing something dumb.

The thought of Phil made him panic more, what would he do if Phil found out. Phil wasn’t the type of person to tolerate things like this. Would he hate him? He’d be hated. He’d be hated by his dad…

With one quick glance he stumbled back, a scream trying to break it’s way out of his mouth, which he had quickly slapped a hand over in a panic. He slammed his back against one of the jagged walls of the cave, the damp exterior slightly soaking into his clothing.

Techno hadn’t noticed that he was yelling or crying for that matter. He was out of it both physically and mentally. He felt wrong, he felt like he was crawling in skin that wasn’t his own.

_ ‘It couldn’t be…’ _

_ It is. _

_ It is. _

_ It is. _

_ Sadly, it is. _

A feather was laying on the ground, blood slowly soaking into the edges of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...
> 
> anyways, wild plot points, because i'm too impatient to redo this chapter over and over again. i had already scrapped it twice. 🕺
> 
> enjoy! :D


	4. damn, not the crazed laughter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> agh, this chapter is almost 6,000 words. 🕺
> 
> tw: violence, blood, barely any drinking
> 
> haha jokes on u, wilbur's still alive.

Techno didn’t get much sleep that night, awake and struggling to settle down with Wilbur’s wings over himself and Techno. Who in fact had been right next to him the whole time, his mind blanked out that helpful piece of information. According to Wilbur he had been comforting him that whole time, supposedly he had a nightmare.

It didn’t feel like a dream at all,  _ it felt so real.  _ Techno curled up next to Wilbur a bit more, thankful for his brother, even if he didn’t enjoy showing it much. He was a big comfort, they had been through a lot together. They both knew how to comfort each other well enough.

Wilbur stirred a bit, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “You good now? I barely got any sleep because of you.” He sat up a bit straighter, pulling his wings away from both of them, drawing them up and closer to his back. “Not that I had a good sleep schedule anyways.”

Techno shrugged, he wasn’t really that aware of what exactly went down last night. He was even forgetting details about the dream already. “Yeah.. yeah. M’ fine, I just had a dream or whatever.”

“Yeh, some dream.” Wilbur stood up, brushing the dirt from his pants. “Need me to refresh your brain about where we are, Techie?”

“I could use that, yeah.” Techno stayed seated, not in the mood yet to get up from the warm spot near the wall. He had a tendency to get his timelines screwed up rather easily, especially if things happened too fast.

“Alright, so… we were dropped off by those bounty dudes a few days ago, uhhh…” Wilbur scratched at his head, a frown on his face. “I guess word got around about us, like not just in merc territory and shit. So, now we’re in some sort of fancy arena type beat place or something?”

Techno rubbed the back of his neck, “Okay, so… we’re stuck here? That’s barely even a bounty, more like a merc job to grab us.” 

That didn’t make much sense, but Phil was well-known for his swordsmanship and his fighting capabilities. They must’ve assumed that Phil had taught them something, or that they were trying to use them to get Phil’s attention. Techno had mostly taught himself how to fight, but Phil was well-versed in multiple things, of course the older man had taught him some stuff.

“Yeah, I’m guessing somebody hired them. Which means Phil should find us easy, so we just gotta vibe here until he does.” Wilbur shrugged, turning sharply on his heel to face Techno. “Not like we haven’t gotten in trouble like this before, well, without the sun shit.”

“Oh yeah, now we’re just a tad more fucked up in the head. Nothing new for you though.” Techno smirked, crossing his arms.

“Hey! Just cause you gotta grow up mostly in the Nether and not have to deal with whatever the fuck went on with the sun, does  _ not _ mean you can bully me for it!” Wilbur kicked his shin, his feathers a bit ruffled.

“Why would you kick me for that, that’s rude.” Techno rubbed his shin absent-mindedly, it didn’t really hurt though. “Plus, the Nether isn’t great either, yet compared to the Overworld, I miss it.”

“Well I’ve never been, but Phil said that it’s hot as fuck for no reason, and that there’s lava everywhere.” Wilbur spun around, his arms stuck out at his sides. “And he said that there’s a shit ton of mobs n’ crud like that. I don’t think I’d like it.”

Techno shrugged, “Yeah probably, you’d most likely end up getting pushed into lava. You’re dumb like that. I don’t think Piglins would like you much.”

“But you enjoy my company! So, I think I’d be fine.”

“That’s different. We basically grew up together for a while, they don’t know you, you never wear armor unless we’re on a job, and you don’t speak Piglin.” Techno listed off reasons on his fingers.

“Hey, you could teach me Piglin, you and Phil know it.” Wilbur sat down, crossing his legs comfortably. “I like learning new languages, teach me, we don’t have anything else to do.”

“Nah. I don’t feel like it, and I doubt you could even pronounce anything. Phil can only understand it and speak the higher notes.”

Wilbur started arguing about pronunciation after a while, it was nice to do something “normal” after such an upsetting time. Techno eventually forgot about what the dream was mostly about, settling down with Wilbur. Yet, the voices were still there, they were hushed and quick with their remarks.

* * *

Gods, what were the lights so bright for? Not only that, the cheer of the crowd was hurting his ears. A chain dome surrounded him, metal covered the first few feet from the ground, probably to stop blood splatter?

_ I’m excited.  _

_ I’m glad Wilbur isn’t out here. _

_ He’s better off not fighting. _

_ Not as capable. _

He had to agree, Wilbur wasn’t the greatest fighter unless it was from afar or a battle of words and intellect. Techno’s eyes quickly adjusted to the bright arena thankfully, something that he’d have to thank being born in the Nether for.

There were a lot of people here… It was odd considering he’d never heard of a sorta colosseum like this before. Had Phil sheltered them from it? It sounded like something his father would do. The people here must be fucked up, watching blood baths like this would be.

When Wilbur had confronted what seemed like guards about the whole arrangement outside their “room.” He had been arguing with them for a while before they let him know anything about the place. It was more of a place for entertainment for people who wanted to just see death. There was enough of that in the world anyways, why would anybody make a place built just for it.

He gripped the sword in his hand tightly, making his knuckles whiten. They were nice enough to give him a weapon to fight with… he didn’t really want to fight, but it was either him or Wilbur. Techno rocked back and forth on his feet, he was bad at waiting patiently and still.

Wilbur had braided his hair for him, which was nice and it was necessary to keep it out of his face. A bonus was that it calmed his brother and himself. He really did need to cut it though, it kept falling into his face in the worst possible times. Which also reminded himself of his tusks, which he had recently shaved down. They had been sunken into his cheeks for the past few days so it hurt to talk or open his mouth.

He picked at the fur-lined cloak they had given to him, supposedly they were all for dramatic flair. Of course he enjoyed looking nice, but it was just going to get dirty and it felt like they were treating him like a glorified animal or tool. It wasn’t just the clothing they had picked out for him that fed into that thought but also the gold chain that had been put around his neck and the boar’s skull stuck on his face. He wasn’t some attack dog in a fighting ring, yet in a way, wasn’t he?

A large speaker-like contraption blasted his ears suddenly, “Welcome all guests! To the Colosseum of Gods! We’re so glad that you’ve joined us for our reopening of the season!” Well, that at least answered his question of why he didn’t know about it. “We have many new contestants and we’ve implemented a nice new feature for you all! The ability to join the bloody bath!”

Techno grimaced, this was disgusting. He mumbled a few annoyances under his breath, which made one of the guards glare at him. The energetic speaker started up once again, “Without further ado, let’s welcome our current champion of the season!”

The season just started up, how did that make any sense? Unless they just wanted to make the others gun for one person in particular to start the bloodbath off quic-

The gate of his opened up with a creak, he entered the area, painfully aware of all of the eyes on him. Of course it would be him, he just couldn’t catch a break ever. Most of the lights had been dimmed, the few still lit were shining right into the arena, right onto him.

“Our new favoured champion, one with the blood of the gods running through him themselves, Technoblade!” Techno almost audibly cringed at that one, he was sure of his lineage, and that was just not it. It was to make him a target.

_ Aw, rude. I think you’re perfectly godly. _

_ Simp. _

_ Blood! _

_ Blood for the Blood God! _

_ Nice, we’re being fed! _

Techno rolled his shoulders back, now looking at the ground, intrigued by the dirt. He rested his hand on the hilt of his blade, trying to look relaxed. He did not, in fact, feel relaxed. His nerves had gone to shit. Yet the crowd cheered, he would be lying if it didn’t make him feel some sort of childish glee. Even if he knew that they just wanted to see the soon bloodshed.

Other gates rolled up, he frowned behind the mask, they were all much taller than him, and from the looks of it much older as well. They were all introduced rather quickly, but he wasn’t really paying attention to them. He could feel their glares, they searched for his eyes behind his mask.

He gave up on trying to keep himself from rocking back and forth on his ankles, sure it made him look like a kid in the wrong place, but wasn’t he just that? On the plus side, it helped calm his nerves and let him think clearer. They would be gunning for him, but if he could keep his distance while they fought each other, he’d have a much better time in the long run.

“Place your bets, place your bets everybody! Who’s going to make it through to round two!? Without further ado, let’s have the games begin!” A loud bang sounded off the round, Techno flinched but managed to not slap his hands over his ears. Which was good, considering he needed to be on his feet quickly.

To his surprise the rest of the opponents steered clear from him, he wasn’t going to complain though. It did get his mind on a one track mind to worrying town though. He watched the others fight, it was just round one but it seemed like the people in the arena weren’t the most developed or distinguished fighters.

That observation didn’t stop the blood from spreading across the dirt, it stained the clothing of others quickly. A shout sounded from nearby, Techno whipped around to be met face-to-face with a very large-bodied man. A quick back-step helped clear his face of a fist, to which he responded with a neat slash at the man’s legs. It’d be easier to cripple him before going in for the kill because of how much larger he was. 

The man didn’t respond with any words or acknowledgement of any pain either, instead he just grappled at him. He scrambled to the side, trying to free himself from the man’s grip on his leg. The man pulled him backwards, hanging him upside down in the air.

Suddenly he was air-born... man, Wilbur was lucky he didn’t have to be thrown by an opponent to feel the air rush through his hair like this. Techno landed on his chest, his breath knocked out of his lungs. He struggled to stand up, thankfully on his feet quickly enough. With a tight grip on his sword he spun around to meet the man, who had a grin on his face. What a dick.

“Here piggie, piggie.” He had a thick accent, he didn’t really know from where though. It was enough to make him annoyed though, really… what was with these people and calling him a pig? He understood it, but… there were so many words that were just waiting to be used for insults.

Techno aimed for the man’s neck, which had just barely grazed it. Good enough, it meant he could reach it. The man let out an almost inhuman growl, he tried to grab at his legs again. That was old, so he darted away from his reach before trying to swipe at the back of the man’s legs again. This time a sickening thunk came from his blade connecting with his legs. Why wasn’t this man using a weapon? Fists weren’t going to work in a sword fight.

Techno visibly cringed while he drove his blade through the man’s throat. A gurgle ripped through the throat of such, he grabbed his blade from his throat, wiping it on his pant leg. One kill for him… Techno looked around at the other people, who were bloodied and still fighting like animals. 

_ Nice! _

_ Wow, got flung, loser. _

_ It took him too long, try harder. _

_ Nerd. _

_ Only one kill? Psh, worthless. _

He rolled his eyes, advancing on the competition. It’d be wrong to admit to enjoying it, but he was honest most of the time, and this was kinda enjoyable. Thankfully, for the most part the others fell quicker, most likely due to being tired and their adrenaline making it worse for them. At least he was living up to his name, or his introductory speech more so. The rest of the opponents kept their distance, supposedly wanting to make it to the second round or whatever it was. It was going to be harder than this, so why not have them test their luck against it first?

A loud bang sounded off again, which made him almost flinch. He wasn’t really tired, but the whole being flung through the arena and landing right on his ribs did make him hurt a little. “Well, we have a few more than we expected! That’s fine though, we’re just getting started! Five minute interval before we continue, folks!” The speaker’s sound died out with a whine.

Techno sat down in the dirt, pushing against his ribs gently, testing for broken bones. It didn’t feel like there was any, which wasn’t too surprising, he didn’t hit the ground  _ that _ hard. Again, he was confused by the others, who were now talking like nothing had happened. Apart from the fact that he was clearly left out from the discussion.

_ They’re probably scared of you. _

_ Yeah, took down that big dude really quick. _

_ They’re probably gonna team against you. _

Wouldn’t be surprising.

Yeah, the chatter was probably right. It didn’t anger him like he thought it would, but it was a bit of an annoyance. What gave them the right to team up against him? He was playing fair and square, they entered into the game because they wanted to. He had been forced into it.

“Alrighty! Are we ready?” The voice started up again, it sounded sleazy to him. Which was probably because they were in it for money, capitalism or something. “Let’s hear some cheers!” The crowd started up again, he had assumed that he had tuned them out while fighting. He usually did that while focused on some task at hand. 

“For round two, we have a fun new opponent for our dear fighters!” A gate rolled up with a loud crash, where were they getting all the electricity? “Low and behold an Iron Golem! It’s been beefed up with potions and it’s ready to mingle in the pit! Our fighters must find a way to defeat it without being flung and smashed into mashed potatoes!”

Really? Techno stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. So, beefed up Iron Golem, no biggie. Not that he had fought an Iron Golem before and this one was huge... like,  _ big _ big. It was at least twenty people tall, average height people of course. 

He leaned onto his sword, resting his body weight on the hilt. The others glanced at him, what were they all anxious about? He wasn’t the giant scary Iron Golem that wanted to kill them. A hushed chatter became the once loud discussion between the group.

“So, let’s hear one last cheer before we get this party started!” The crowd again, gave their loud shouts and whoops before quieting down, ready to see a fight happen. “Start him up boys! Let’s get this show on the road once more!”

A nasty creak came from the golem, it’s eyes lighting up with a redstone glow. Techno backed up from the golem, at least as far as he could. His hand tightening his grip on the sword hanging by his side.

_ Let’s go! _

_ Least bloody fight we’ll ever be in. _

_ Nice, let’s kill it. _

_ Let the golem do the work on the others. _

_ Yeah, be lazy. _

Techno sighed, it was a good idea though. It would do him some good to observe what would and wouldn’t work. The golem started moving, it’s footsteps were heavy and made the chain dome clink about as well as shake the ground. Laughter came from the crowd.

Somebody had gotten flung by the golem, crashing into the chain dome now falling to the ground with a sickening crunch and thud. Techno grimaced, they were bent at awkward angles, bones had been shoved out of their muscles and skin. Blood was now trickling down their mouth and had been pooling behind their back.

He turned away, it reminded him too much of something he didn’t want to think about. The golem had been flinging people into the air, some of them had landed on the golem itself. The people were trying to pry at the redstone core that powered it, except that they were having no luck at all. 

Techno cautiously approached the golem, stalking around it’s legs while it was distracted by somebody else. He grabbed a groove in it’s ankle, hoisting himself onto the giant body. He reached for another foothold, making his way up towards it’s chest.

Somebody had fallen with a yell, their body having been crushed shortly after by the golem’s foot. Techno gave a muffled ew before sliding down the golem’s chest a bit, before abandoning his sword and fishing out the dagger on his side. He hadn’t noticed the large hand of the golem before it started crushing him against the golem’s chest. 

Techno stuck the dagger in between the redstone block and the edges of the container of such. He started to pry it out, all while hearing his ribs start to crack and push into his lungs. With a small cough and a bit of blood in the back of his throat he launched the redstone out of the golem. It quickly powered down, which made it start to collapse.

He tried to wriggle out of the golem’s grip, which was harder than he thought. The joints were all locked up and were firm in their grip. With a groan he lifted himself out of the golem’s hand, which made him start to fall as well. He hit the ground, knocking the wind out of himself. His ribs hurt, he could feel them in his chest. He knew they were broken.

“Our golem has fallen! A little too quickly with not enough blood and crushing for my liking, but what can you do!” The announcer had a bit of malice in his voice, it was probably directed towards him. “Five minute interval as always before we finish tonight’s act!”

Some act, this was just painful. Techno sat down again, it hurt to breathe. Hopefully after this they'd give him a healing potion or something like it. He scanned the surrounding area for his sword, he’d need it for the last round. Whatever it was going to be.

Techno picked up the sword, frowning at the large chips and scratches in the blade. He’d need a new one after tonight, this one wasn’t very good for much anymore. There weren’t many people left, if he had counted correctly there were about six, including himself. 

_ Bruh, almost got crushed. _

_ At least he didn’t die from that shit. _

_ Technoblade never dies! _

_ Of course, of course. I apologize for such a statement.  _

_ Loser. _

_ Get gud. _

Techno sighed, sheathing his sword. He rubbed at the bloodstain on his shirt, it wasn’t his but it made his shirt all scratchy and irritating. He coughed into his arm, staining the white cloth with blood. Nice, internal bleeding, the last thing he needed. But y’know, blunt force trauma would do that to you.

It concerned him how much the remaining people were joking around with each other and being light-hearted with it all. They’d all end up dead anyways, why get chummy? One of the people, a shorter statured woman with sheep-like features called towards him, waving. Her hands looked more like hooves than human fingers.

“Hey, pig-kid, c’mere for a moment!” Techno flicked an ear out of annoyance, but started walking towards her and the group. “You’re a pretty good fighter. How old are you, Mr. Champion of the Season?”

Techno crossed his arms, slightly uncomfortable around the group of five. “My dad says around fourteen or fifteen. I age a little differently.”

“Holy shit, you’re really young! My parents would’ve never let me participate in something like this.”

Techno laughed uncomfortably, “Yeah…” Who said he wanted to participate? The other people weren’t as friendly with him, taking a bigger distance away from him than the woman.

“Well, to whoever wins, I hope it's a fun and fair fight!” She held out her hand to be shaked, a smile on her face. Techno gave her hand a light shake before backing away. Cheerful banter picked up again amongst the group, which left him feeling a little out of place. 

It had stopped quickly after due to the speaker’s loud voice blasting their ears again, “Okay! Shut up and get ready everybody! We’re finishing off our night with duels! We’re going to shuffle the contestants into their gated areas and we’re having  _ you _ vote on who should duel one another!”

He shuffled back towards his gate. The guard inside waved half-heartedly at him before opening it, only to be closed behind him again. Techno took this time to take off the boar’s skull, it was making his face feel stuffy. Wiping at his bloody nose, he turned around to face the arena or whatever it was. The speaker had too many names, they needed to figure out their branding. 

He shoved the skull back onto his face quickly, the gate in front of him opening faster than he wanted it to. He was tired. Stepping out into the light again, face to face with the woman he had just shaken hands with. Of course the crowd would pick her, he didn’t mind fighting her, but she didn’t look like the kind to go down easy. 

“First up! Technoblade and Captain Puffy! Let the duel begin!” The speaker quieted as the lights dimmed around the crowd once more.

Puffy? He thought he’d heard that name before, but he shook away the thought with a turn of his head. Techno drew out his sword, it wasn’t in good condition, but it would be good enough for now. 

“Let’s have a good round, alright? Duels here don’t have to end in death, so let’s finish without unnecessary slaughter.” Puffy smiled, pulling out her own sword, it was a cutlass. She lived up to her honorific, Captain Puffy.

Techno gave a small nod, he didn’t really feel like ending this woman’s life anyways. She was nice, she had a warm smile to her. Not only that, it hurt to move around too much, so it’d be better to finish the duel quickly. 

She darted towards him, slashing at his side. He parried with his own sword, moving to the side to give his own counter-attack. Instead he only reached her white locks, swiping at her hair before having to back up. 

Puffy pushed her blade down on his, bringing her knee into his stomach. He pushed away from her, now in a coughing fit. Thanks ribs. Techno was up on his feet again though, it wasn’t good to be away from the fight for too long. What annoyed him was the concern growing on the woman’s face, was it pity or just the woman’s nature?

He flung his blade at her, she moved to deflect it but he launched towards her, grabbing her waist to bring her down. They toppled each other over, he grabbed her cutlass from her hands, driving it into the dirt next to her head. A click and then a loud bang sounded off to signify the end of the duel. 

Puffy laughed, pushing him off of herself. Techno stood up, a small smile growing on his face, “No blood?”

“No blood,” Puffy stood up, grabbing her sword. “Nice thinking, kiddo.” She waved a goodbye to him, walking over towards her own gate. Techno felt nice, it felt like Phil was praising him. Did Puffy have her own kids?

Techno was watching the other duels play out, a free-for-all would be the ending of the night. Only three would face off in it, so it wasn’t going to be a long fight. He was concerned about the other duels, they were increasingly bloody for no reason. 

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

_ Yeah, let’s do what they’re doing. _

_ Puffy was the only exception. _

_ We like Puffy. _

_ Puffy! _

Techno rolled his shoulders back uncomfortably, he didn’t want to get up from his sitting position. He’d laid his head against the bars of the gate, entranced by the fighting, which had just ended. Which meant that the free-for-all would be sooner than later.

* * *

Static filled his head, there wasn’t anything, he couldn’t hear anything. The voices were finally quieted. Blood dripped from his hands, from his mouth? He brought an arm up to wipe the blood from his face. The crowd suddenly got loud again, they must’ve already been, not that he could’ve heard them. 

There was a certain amount of fear in the cheering, which made him look around the arena. It was something too reminiscent of his dream. Something so gut-wrenching, something he didn’t enjoy doing. It was just so easy to get caught up in the voices lately. It wasn’t his fault, they were just so loud.

“Holy shit… I- Our victor is none other than our champion, Technoblade!” Even the speaker sounded like a mixture of giddy and fearful. “That’s all for tonight, folks! Those who betted on him, a pat on the back for you! Goodnight folks, please shuffle out of the Colosseum now!” Techno covered his ears with his hands, they were too loud. He could feel his brain reverting back to think in Piglin, it was more natural that way.

Guards marched towards him, trying to get him to come near them. He bit back a growl, what was going on? The smell of blood was getting to him, the metallic tang stayed in the back of his throat. A guard grabbed his shoulder, to which he responded with a bite to his hand. 

He cursed something, but Techno had a hard time concentrating on the english. The other two guards grabbed him by the arms, dragging him away. This wasn’t the greatest idea for them, considering he struggled against them for no reason in particular. They threw him into the gated area, he decided against standing back up.

With a grumble he tried to concentrate on his surroundings, finding it unnecessarily difficult, he covered his ears and closed his eyes. He missed Phil's comforting words and the way he could quiet the voices from just being around him. He never told Phil about voices, he didn't want the man to be concerned or for the possibility of hatred from him.

* * *

Phil held the folded note in his hand, making his way down into the Colosseum, past the large crowd coming up the other set of stairs. He held a bit of worry in his mind for Wilbur and Techno, who had either gone off somewhere with each other, or were gone due to unforeseen circumstances. He crumpled the note in his fist, walking quickly towards the office of the “speaker.”

It was a rather roomy area, it was almost unnecessarily big for an office. It was nicer than most houses he’d seen in cities lately. In the middle sat a goat-hybrid, his legs rested on the desk in front of him. A sleazy grin rested on his face, in his hands was a small remote.

“Hey Philza, Phil, how are you doing? I see you got my note! You’re a little late though, didn’t get to see the premiere.” Phil shuffled around a bit, bringing his wings up further. 

“I did. Nice place, who built it for you?” Phil tilted his head to the side slightly. “Be honest, Schlatt, why did you send me a shitty note?”

“Okay, okay. This is easier to show than to tell, but I promise you it’s great.” He brought up his hands, waving them around wildly. “Just watch the screen, you’ll enjoy it. Maybe get some information on… whereabouts?” 

Phil narrowed his eyes, turning towards the monitor above their heads. The screen flashed on, showing a young boy laughing in the arena, covered in blood and what looked like guts. He could immediately recognize the laughter and hair of Techno, he hissed air through his teeth.

“Schlatt, why is my kid in your arena?” His voice was dangerously low. “He’s a fuckin’ child, what is wrong with you?”

“But look at him! He’s a fucking freaky bitch force of nature! Plus, he’s obviously Nether-born, you don’t have any say over him, you know that Phil. Do you actually have any papers for him?” He picked up a bottle of whiskey, downing the remaining fluids in it, fiddling with the rings on his hands.

“He’s not something to pass around, he isn’t a tool, Schlatt. He’s obviously just a kid, look at him compared to everybody else in there.” Phil drew a hand over his face. “Do you have Wilbur?”

“Lanky kid with a yellow sweater and a complainer? Yeah, he’s here, god you kinda raised a bitch.”

“Stop that.” Phil crossed his arms, a taught frown settled on his face.

“Aw, don’t get angry at me! I haven’t done anything wrong. The land’s laws aren’t that bad!” Schlatt spun around in his chair. “Your kid is great for business, he lived up to all of my expectations. The kid is fucking crazy, did you see him rip that man’s throat out with his teeth? What the fuck!” A crazed laugh ripped through the used to be silence.

Phil shook his head, “You’re fuckin’ nuts, mate. Techno isn’t for “sale.”” He made air quotation marks. “Get him outta here before I get angrier than I already am.”

“Hey! No, no, I paid good money for that kid. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“What about Wilbur? Him as well?”

“Nah, he was more like collateral damage, had to draw the pig out somehow.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“But he is! He’s more animalistic than any hybrid I’ve ever fucking seen!” He stood up from his chair now pacing and making hand gestures while doing so. “He doesn’t fucking care! He bit one of my guards, made weird fuckin’ pig noises while doing so, I dunno!”

“It was probably Piglin!” Phil turned back to the screen, the video was just a loop of Techno laughing in the blood of somebody. He winced at the actions of his son, who hadn’t opted out for any weapon and instead used his teeth and hands. It was unnecessarily bloody.

“You see what I mean right? I’m surprised he hasn’t taken out his brother yet! I had a guard report to me last night that he had been going crazy in the fuckin' cell or whatever!”

“Cell? So you’re just locking up children now, Schlatt?” Phil frowned.

“It’s called capitalism, baby. Anyways, that kid, Wilbur had to calm him down all night! He was this close to snapping!” He pinched his fingers together to show his point. “Maybe he’s better off here, you never know…” Schlatt shrugged, a nasty grin on his face.

“He’d never hurt Wilbur or I on purpose. He’s just a kid, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I’ve tried my best to teach him, but he grew up in a shitty place. It’s due to his surroundings in childhood, not him as a character.”

“Yada yada, I heard a load of shit. Look at him, he’s fuckin eating that guy! It’s hilarious!” 

“He’s fourteen, Schlatt!” Phil brought a fist down onto the desk. “He’s just a kid. He’s a kid who doesn’t understand how his actions affect the way others perceive him yet.”

Schlatt frowned, crossing his arms. “I don’t appreciate you yelling at me, Phil. Anyways, stick around for tomorrow, we’re having another show. Last one of the week and all that shit. Just come watch, maybe I’ll let you visit Wilbur. You obviously can’t be trusted around Technoblade, so violent.”

Phil shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy. Tell me when I can talk to Wilbur, get me a room nearby. You fuck up my kids more than they already are, I will commit terrible atrocities.” He turned to walk out of the room, his feathers slightly ruffled. “I thought you would know better, with Tubbo and all that, even if you aren’t fit to be his father.”

Phil left the office, leaving a drunk and angry Schlatt, who responded to his statement with a whiskey bottle thrown at his shut door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doin a funky little brain dance. adiós for now
> 
> comments are appreciated, i really enjoy reading them. :>


	5. it's my mental breakdown, doo do do do do do do do do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: vomiting (again, not in great detail.), blood, depersonalization-derealization? kinda, not rlly a panic attack but it's a vibe, child abuse (very minor, and really just barely referenced.) 
> 
> 🕺 how'd y'all do with the stream yesterday? i laughed!
> 
> text written in italics with these ' ' in front and behind them is just to signify that its piglin or a different language ig :>

“Technoblade, I swear to anything holy, stay fucking still,” Wilbur pushed him up into a sitting position. “Just drink the healing potion.”

“Mmm, I don’t wanna..” Techno slumped against Wilbur’s wing, twirling his fingers around in his hair. “I want to take a shower…”

“That’s great, but like, you’re kinda bleeding internally n’ shit. Sooo, drink the potion.” Wilbur shoved the potion into his hands, with a glare Techno downed the potion.

See, the thing about healing potions was that it did in fact increase the healing process of your body but it still used energy for it. So it did help but it was just as painful as the healing process would’ve been, just sped up. He coughed a few times into his arm, thankfully his internal bleeding was getting stopped by the potion, it just made his chest hurt. A lot. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go pester the guard for food or something, you just stay still and try not to whine?” Wilbur patted his shoulder, walking over towards the gate-like door that kept them from walking about freely.

Techno had found out that they’d been moved to a room of sorts instead of some cell-like cave that they’d used to be in. It even had different rooms, they had a kitchen, not that it was stocked. But they definitely had a bathroom, which meant he could get all the blood and grime off of him. There was one bedroom, but he and Wilbur shared a room anyways at home, it’s not like they weren’t used to cramped sleeping situations.

Instead he laid back down on the floor, he could feel his bones being rearranged and put back together in his chest. Wilbur walked across the room, the floorboards creaking under his feet. Techno noted that his wings had been preened recently, and they weren’t all broken-looking anymore like they used to be. It was too bad that his primaries weren't grown back yet. 

“They’re gonna bring some ingredients over, supposedly nobody knows how to cook here. So, I’m gonna have to try and do what I can with whatever the fuck they bring me.” Wilbur waved his hand around, he was standing in the kitchen, looking through cupboards for utensils. “Why don’t you go shower or something instead of moping on the floor? Or you can be useful and help me cook.”

“Oh boy, I love showers. Plus I wouldn’t want to cook while I look like a bloody corpse.” Techno sat up slowly, rubbing his face. “I’m exhausted, I think I’ll sleep for a few years after this.”

“They said you’re going to the arena again tomorrow, or some shit like that.” Wilbur shrugged, but he was tense. “Just rest up tonight, alright? You were really hurt today…”

“Nothing I can’t handle, I never die, Wilbur.” Techno joked about, he didn’t like touchy-feely talks. “Wake me up for dinner?”

Wilbur nodded. Techno stumbled his way towards the bathroom, hunched over in pain and just from aching. The mirror was not doing him any favors, he brushed a hand on his cheek where a cut sat on it. It started closing up due to the healing potion, it would linger for a few minutes more. 

He turned the knob in the shower, letting the water warm up before getting in. He stripped off his shirt, finally free of the scratchy feeling of the cloth. Scars littered his chest, but those weren’t new. Techno sighed, it had been a long day.

* * *

A knock at the door startled Wilbur, he’d been zoning out, staring at the wall. He shook his head trying to clear the mental fog, Wilbur opened the door, “Took you long enough. What did you even-”

Phil stood in front of the door, in front of him. Wilbur grappled the man into a hug, a whimper came from him. There was a breathy laugh from the older man, “Hey Wil, you alright?”

“Shut up. Shut up. What took you so long?” Wilbur pushed away from Phil, a frown on his face. “Where the fuck is this place even? Are we going to leave now? I don’t want Techno doing the same shit tomorrow like he did today. Should I call Techno out here? He’s showering, I think…”

“Slow the fuck down, mate. Catch your breath. I had an old acquaintance contact me. I didn’t know you two were here… but I don’t think he had anything good planned for you two anyways,” Phil rubbed the back of his neck. “Let Techno relax, I saw what went on today.”

“You don’t know half of it… Listen, I’m ready to leave this shit-hole and Techno doesn’t have any personal belongings here.” Wilbur’s voice carried a high note of worry. “He wants to get out of here as much as I do. We’ve been stuck travelling and doing some fucked up shit ever since like last week.”

“Listen, things are a little screwed up right now. We’re not going to leave Techno here alone, but I can’t grab him yet.”

“That’s stupid! Since when do you care about rules or other people?” Wilbur ruffled his wings, making himself look slightly bigger. “We could literally just leave through the open door!”

“I just think it's smarter to go about this a different way. The person in charge here has connections and strings attached to a lot of people. I’m trying not to ruin our lives here, Wilbur.” Phil placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to convince the boy.

“It sounds like you’re trying to ruin Techno’s life. I’m not dumb and I’m not as fully trusting of you like Techno is. He doesn’t know any better, he expects the best from you.” Wilbur pushed his hand off, backing up from the man.

“Of course I care about Techno. I’m not trying to hurt him.” Phil crossed his arms. “I’m just unable to take him out of here, I technically don’t even have legal custody of him.”

  
“For fuck’s sake, we’re barely even in the cities, we don’t live here! Why would you need legal custody?” Wilbur waved his hands around wildly before running his hands through his hair.

“Wilbur, children's protection laws are still fucked here. You know this, we talk about it at dinner enough.” Phil backed out of the doorway into the hall. “I can take you with me, you were born in the Overworld, I technically have legal protection over you.”

“I’m not leaving Techno to his own devices here. He’d start going crazy or some shit.” Wilbur grabbed the door, ready to close it. “I’ll see you some other time,  _ Dad _ . Maybe when you decide to get your head on straight.”

“Wil..” He shut the door, Wilbur slumped down against it, drawing his wings up by his side as a comfort. “It won’t be long, Wilbur. Just give me a few days.”

_ (Stupid. It was stupid. Why wouldn’t he just grab us? He’s better than this. Unless he doesn’t even care. Maybe he wants a cut. Stupid, stupid. God, you’re too trusting, this is what happens-) _

“Why are you holding your head in your hands… on the floor? It can’t be that nice down there.” Techno slouched against the door frame. “Need some water? You look paler than usual.”

“Nah, I’m just doing my usual nightly mental breakdown.” Wilbur quickly stood up, brushing his sweaty palms on his new sweater. “I’m still waiting for the food ingredients to get here. Terrible service, really.”

“Ah, I see. I’m not really hungry anyways, I feel rather nauseous.” Techno had tied up his hair into a pony-tail. Wilbur needed to trim it at least in the next few days, he knew that Techno liked it long, but it was getting a little much. 

“I thought I told you to take a nap.”

“I thought I heard somebody talking, but I guess you were just talking to yourself?” Techno shrugged, taking a seat at the small dinner table. He didn’t look good, even after the potion.

Well, that made sense. They only healed you for a few minutes, it was accelerated but larger wounds and broken bones would still ache. Especially if they didn’t heal in time, it’s like if a doctor only gave you half a treatment for something. Plus, it tired you out for a while, Wilbur would know, he’d been sleeping like a black-out drunk for the past few days. 

“Yeah, it's just one of those days.” Wilbur sat down in the seat next to him, tracing the wood swirls on the table. “You look like shit by the way.”

“Thanks, Wil. I appreciate it.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, for Techno being almost a year younger than him, he used a stuck-up fuckin vocabulary. “Really though, you should go to bed. Busy day tomorrow or something?”

“Heh, something like that.” Techno tucked his face into his arms. Wilbur paid close attention to the way his words slurred, a look of concern growing. “Maybe I’ll just sleep here. Sounds better than trying to get up right now.”

“Nah, I don’t want your sorry arse in here while I cook. Go lay down in the bed and get some rest.” Wilbur pushed him away from the chair.

“You’re gonna push me out of my damn seat. I’m going, I’m going.” Techno stood up shakily. “Stop acting like a mother bird, you’re worse than Phil.”

  
Techno moved towards the bedroom, to sleep… supposedly. Wilbur sighed, he was better than Phil. Phil hadn’t worried over Techno in years, like he was already a mature adult at fourteen. The last time he’d actually remembered Phil worrying about either of them was three or four years ago.

They had fallen down a cave while hunting with Phil. He spent hours trying to fish them out of it. Night had fallen quickly, one thing led to another. It wasn’t a fun time overall and he didn’t enjoy thinking about it.

Not only that, he saw how Phil taught Techno to suppress his emotions. That he was almost unable to be vulnerable around others in fear of being used or shut down. Sure he was like that enough before they’d met Phil, but it had gotten so much worse. He wouldn’t even talk to him about stuff anymore.

Wilbur placed his face into his hands, a long groan came from in between his fingers. He felt like shit. He could see Techno unraveling, he could see  _ himself _ unraveling. He constantly felt sick and tired in ways he hadn’t felt before. It was like a constant mental and physical fatigue. 

A thought about the sun bounced about in his head. Sure, they’d been out there for a few days, but it wouldn’t have hurt them too bad. Yeah, it had definitely fucked him up, he couldn’t tell with Techno though. He knew that he’d been acting weird, the whole nightmare thing scared the shit out him.

That night was terrible, it was genuinely terrible. Techno woke him up with his frantic pacing, he was stuck in his own mind for hours. Wilbur had comforted him the whole time, through the puking and mindless babble. He couldn’t even make out what it was about. He just knew that it fucked him up.

Wilbur sighed as a knock hit the door again, he opened it slowly. A smile of relief reached his face when he saw that it was just somebody with food ingredients. He wasn’t in the mood to see Phil again.

“Hey! Sorry for how long this took! I grabbed a few extra things just for fun, I wanted to give you something from my bakery.. So!” The woman gave him an armful of boxes before grabbing bags from her side. “I also got things for an actual dinner though! I’m Puffy, Captain Puffy if we’re rockin’ with formalities.”

“Thank you, Puffy. I appreciate it, I’m Wilbur.” He set down the boxes on the counter, sticking a hand out to be shaken. “Uhm, Techno is napping, so…”

Puffy shook his hand, a smile of concern replacing her cheery one. “He okay? He uh, you know.” She made an awkward gesture with her hand. 

“He should be fine, he’s always fine. I am… a little worried to be honest though.” Wilbur took the bags from the sheep hybrid. Noting the jewelry she was wearing, he didn’t mean to do it to people, it was just an unconscious thing at this point. 

“I think he could do with somebody worrying about him. I’m guessing you did give him a healing potion though?”

“Sure did. Don’t know why I wouldn’t.” Wilbur shuffled around, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Don’t get your feathers all ruffled, I was just making sure.” Puffy’s stance was still light-hearted, which means she was just messing with him. Wilbur settled down a little bit, moving towards the stove in the kitchen. “Would you like any help with cooking?”

Wilbur shrugged, moving over a bit so she could join him. He wasn’t used to other people, but he was a natural talker anyways. Actually, he hadn’t really talked to others in a few years. (Those that weren’t his family.) The most he’d done was talking to clients for mercenary jobs, Phil barely even let him do that though. 

  
  


“Alright, I brought beef instead of pork, in consideration of Techno.” Puffy washed her hands in the sink, moving to grab a cutting board. 

“Aw, he doesn’t  _ really _ mind it. Technically they’re two different species.” Wilbur started washing potatoes, scrubbing the dirt off of them.

* * *

The bedroom door swung open. Techno left, barging into the bathroom. Getting rid of any of the contents in his stomach into the toilet. He expected to stop gagging, yet he found himself trying to puke over and over again. The clear water now looked like a bloody mess. Silently he flushed down whatever he’d done earlier, a twist of guilt took over his now empty stomach. 

He rubbed his eyes gently, wiping his mouth off with a towel. A small knock on the door made him spun around. A panic settled in his body, why was he so anxious? He hadn’t gotten like this in forever.

“Are you okay in there, buddy? Wilbur asked me to check on you.” It wasn’t Wilbur, obviously. It was familiar, yet he couldn’t wrack his brain for a name.

“M’fine. Just a little preoccupied.” The door unlatched after he twisted the doorknob, Techno was met with Puffy. Oh.

“Hey kiddo, are you sure everything’s good?” Again, was it pity or concern on her face? He couldn’t tell.

“Yeah. What are you doing here, Puffy?” He left the bathroom, following the woman towards the kitchen. 

“I brought you two food and some other things over. I’ve also been helping your useless brother cook.” Techno chuckled at that, she wasn't wrong. Wilbur wasn’t the greatest cook compared to Phil.

Wilbur peered out from behind the kitchen counter, “Oi, arsehole, I’m perfectly capable at cooking!” He had a spatula in hand, staring at them both. “Hey Tech, you look less like shit.”

“You look more like shit.” Techno turned to sit down at the table, he wasn’t interested in cooking considering he just spent the past half hour retching whatever was in his stomach into the toilet. In fact, the smell of cooking food was enough to make him want to go back into the bathroom.

“Aw thanks, so nice of you to say that while I’ve been cooking for the past hour.”

“You mean while I’ve been cooking for the past hour. You’ve been more of a distant assistant.” Puffy washed her hands before working on mashing potatoes. Wilbur scoffed, now arguing light-heartedly with Puffy. 

_ Puffy? _

_ I missed Puffy. _

_ I like Puffy. _

_ I miss Phil. _

_ Phil? _

_ Where’s Phil? _

_ Phil? _

_ At least Wilbur is here. _

_ Phil? _

He closed his eyes, absent-mindedly scratching at his scalp. Where had Phil been? He could’ve sworn that he heard his voice earlier, but it could’ve just been his mind playing tricks on himself. Wilbur said that it was just him talking to himself. He wouldn't lie to him, he hadn’t lied to him for forever. They’d be usually upfront about things with each other since they were young.

_ Did he lie? _

What would Phil think of him? He had done some screwed-up things recently. He did what Phil had yelled at him for doing years ago, something that he wasn’t supposed to do. He hadn’t hurt anybody like that in forever. His chest hurt again, but not because of his ribs. 

He wiped his hands on his dress shirt, they were annoyingly sweaty.

_ Peer pressure, am I right? _

_ That.. that was not peer pressure, that was just us. _

_ Just ignore it. _

_ Pfft, if the voices in your head try to get you to eat somebody, just close your eyes! _

_ Pog. _

_ Thanks, real helpful. _ Techno tapped the table, trying to get his mind off the anxiety-induced thoughts about Phil. Which wasn't really helping. 

The lights were too bright, there was too much noise, too many people talking. The chair was uncomfortable, the clothes he was wearing weren’t as soft as he’d like them to be. The walls weren’t a nice color to look at, and he wasn’t even  _ breathing right. _

He shook his leg, painfully aware of the fact that Wilbur was now staring at him. He could just feel it making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could hear his voice in his head, even though he wasn’t even talking.

“I’ll be right back.” He pushed the chair away from the table, he felt sick to his stomach again. Well, he tried his best to make his voice sound less strained and stressed than he felt. He didn’t think it worked very well though.

He pushed the bedroom door open, slamming it shut on accident. He paced about, holding his arms tightly.  _ This was stupid.  _ He eyed the drawers holding random supplies, was it in there?

He moved around the random items, before grabbing the shears out of the container. 

_ No. _

_ No, no, don’t do that. _

_ We like the long hair. _

_ How are you going to calm down if you cut it? _

_ We’re being self-destructive.  _

_ Just ask Wilbur for help. _

_ Wilbur is just outside the door. _

_ ‘Shut up.’ _

_ Just be quiet.  _ He stared into the small mirror that was placed on the wall. He wasn’t going to even cut that much off. Just enough.

He held up the shears, leveling the blades to cut the hair right below his shoulder-blades.  _ Who cares?  _ He dropped the clump of hair, pink locks falling to the floor. Moving on to the rest of it, it wasn’t the most even cut, but it was good enough.

_ Oh. _

_ It's so much shorter now… _

_ You could’ve just asked Wilbur, he would’ve done that for you. _

_ Will Phil be mad? _

_ Phil? _

_ Phil isn’t here right now. _

_ I wish Phil was here right now. _

_... _

Tears fell down his cheeks, slowly to the point where he didn’t even notice them at first. He slowly brushed them away, he didn’t even feel sad anymore, did he? He just felt an empty anger and frustration. So why was he still crying? Why couldn’t he breathe right?

He let go of the shears, with a clink they fell to the ground. He put his hair back over his back, brushing strands of it off of his shoulders. The blood under his fingernails caught his eye, he must’ve forgotten to actually wash his hands better. It wasn’t his. It was never his.

_ Sometimes it's yours. _

_ It was Wil’s. _

_ It was Phil’s. _

_ Most of the time though, _

_ it isn’t yours. _

The mirror reflected himself, yet he could swear it wasn’t himself looking back. Another scar littered his cheek, a soft golden tint to it, it happened when potions were used on a wound. He had too many to count anyways, golden-laced scars decorated his body, yet many more were just ones healed over normally. Where had he even gotten half of them?

Training with Phil? The Nether? Fights? Bounties? Jobs? Countless accidents? Things he couldn’t remember? Were they things that he’d want to remember?

_ Training was hard. _

_ Training hurt. _

_ I don’t miss it. _

_ I miss Phil. _

_ Why do we miss Phil? _

_ Because he’s our dad. _

_ Why doesn’t he care then? _

_ ‘He cared. He cares.’ _ Techno shook his head, glaring at himself in the mirror. Or what was supposed to be himself. ‘ _ What an idiot.’ _

_ ‘If he didn’t care, why did he take us in? If he didn’t care, we wouldn’t even be here. We’d be dead in the Nether or we’d be dead with Wilbur.’ _

_ Too reliant. _

_ He must’ve lied to us. _

_ Spill his blood. _

_ Why? _

_ Why would you do that? _

_... _

_ ‘I don’t want to do that. I care about Phil. Stop trying to convince me that that’s what I want. I can understand everything you say to me, but we all know that we don’t want that.’ _

_ Phil doesn’t deserve that from us. _

_ Agreed. _

_ We are too reliant. _

_ Is Puffy safe? _

_ I think Puffy is safe. _

_ ‘I don’t think Puffy would hurt Wilbur or I, she didn’t try to hurt me in the duel.’ _

_ She kicked you. _

_ Why didn’t you slay her where she stood? _

_ Are the screams for blood not enough for you? _

_ Aren’t you relieved when you do so? _

_ ‘She asked for a bloodless duel, I honored her request. I did what Phil would want me to do. He…’ _

_ Phil always tells us what to do. _

_ Not a very good friend. _

_ He’s a parent more than a friend, that’s what he’s supposed to be. _

_ I don’t like it. _

_ ‘You keep making me lose my grip in that dumb arena, you’re all the reason I did what I swore not to. I promised Phil, he made me promise.’ _

_ You broke it. _

_ Broke the promise. _

_ He’ll hate us. _

_ You also promised not to tell them about us. _

_ You won’t break that promise, right? _

_ Break it and you’ll be broken. _

_ Broken from the inside out. _

Techno rolled his eyes,  _ ‘That’s dumb. You wouldn’t do that. You’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you.’ _

_ True. _

_ He’s right. _

_ We’re all right. _

_ Are we alright though? _

_ Are we? _

_ ‘No. Not by a long shot. I feel sick. I feel sick again.’ _

_ You need to eat something. _

_ Eat dinner? _

_ Please eat something. _

_ Big day tomorrow again. _

_ Bloody day tomorrow. _

_ ‘Everyday has been bloody. It’s the usual. Everybody is born in blood, it’s just how it works.’ _

_ You were bathed in blood since birth. _

_ There’s never any rest. _

_ Not everybody is born in blood, some are just thought into existence, aren’t they? _

_ Gods are brought into existence by thoughts, by tales of many. _

_ Are we a god? _

_ We could be. _

_ Do we want to be? _

_ ‘Gods don’t live better lives than mortals. It’s like being cursed to walk a world with nobody by your side, because everybody ends up dying in front of you or they end up dying without you.’ _

_ Ok poet. _

_ He reads too many books. _

_ I miss storytime. _

_ Can we read? _

_ Book time? _

_ What did I miss? I was napping. _

_ ‘We aren’t going to read right now, maybe before I go to bed. We’ll see.’ _

The chatter whined about the lack of reading, he took a deep breath, gathering up the locks of hair on the ground. He put them into the bin, the one that was in the corner, right next to the door. He figured it’d be as good a time as any to leave the room, he took one last look at the mirror. Good, his eyes weren’t red from crying. At least he was taught to be a quiet crier.

The door opened to Wilbur, he looked like he was just about to knock. He had to look up to stare at his face, he was still a few inches taller than him. He also looked concerned, but usually Wilbur’s concern was easier to stomach than a stranger’s. It was easier to understand then.

“Oh hey, dinner is done. I was just about to call you out to the table.” Wilbur stared at his hair, it was obviously shorter. “Oh… I could’ve done that for you. You could’ve asked, I would’ve. I’ll just fix it up later for you, I’m glad you didn’t cut it super short. I like braiding it.”

_ He talks so much. _

_ See, we were right. _

_ Should’ve listened, we’re smart as well. _

“Yeah, I’ll be over in a second.” He glared inwardly at the voices. “For the hair, I just wanted to do something with it myself.”

Wilbur shrugged, walking back over towards the larger part of the “apartment.” He walked through the hall, hopefully eating would help him feel better. He wasn’t counting on it though.

* * *

“And then Tubbo fell into the lake, right on top of Tommy! They got all muddy and Tommy started arguing with Tubbo.” Puffy was telling a story about her friend’s kids, although they seemed more like they were hers as much as they were his.

Techno had already met Tommy and Tubbo a week or so ago, so he had some recollection of the two’s personalities. He had meant to ask her about the two, but spaced out during dinner for the most part. 

“That reminds me of when Tech and I were younger. We weren’t the nicest kids, but blame society and shit. Anyways, we had been vibing together, just kinda doing what we needed to to get by. Keep in mind there was a bit of a language barrier, Techno could only speak Piglin for the first few weeks we had met.” Wilbur started telling a story, waving his hands around a few times to add to it. “So, we had just stolen this old guy’s coin pouch. It was a nice fucking coin pouch too, velvet n’ shit.”

* * *

“Hurry up, you’re gonna get us killed! I didn’t think that old dude could run that fast!” Wilbur tugged on his sleeve, trying to pull him up the wall faster.

“Just.. break his legs?” Techno shuffled up the wall after Wil, close on his heels.

“That is violent! I like the idea, but I don’t think I could take him on, look at him. Tall motherfucker!”

“I could. I’d bite.” He dropped down the wall, sprinting next to Wilbur.

“Yeah, yeah! I’m not the one with fifteen different weapons built into them!” Wilbur made a sharp turn, running into a few people in the large center’s crowd.

“You have wings, just don’t fly. Too dumb.” Techno avoided the people in the crowd, trying to keep track of Wilbur in the busy center. 

“For being like eight, you’re fucking sassing me!” Wilbur grabbed his hand, pulling him close. Which would’ve been a good idea if they didn’t run into a tall winged man.

The man turned around, probably surprised by two children barreling into him. His face contorted into a confused one and then immediately turned into a pitiful and sad frown.

“You two look terrible, what do you have there?” The man quite literally towered over them, his wings made him look unnaturally huge. 

“Look, wings. Bet he can fly, not like you.” Techno poked Wilbur, who flicked him in retaliation.

“We’re busy, old man! Very busy, running far far away. Excuse us now!” Wilbur turned to dart away, but couldn’t before he was grabbed by the cloak collar.

Techno simply stared at Wil, who was kicking and punching at the man. It wasn’t working. It was amusing though.

“Slow down there. You two look like hybrids. Well, obviously the little one, but you’re winged, no?”

“Nope! Totally normal and not in the mood to be used!”

“I can see your wings poking out over your cloak…” The man let go of Wilbur, who almost tripped over his own feet. “Did you steal that from an old man a few blocks back?”

“What’s it to you? Gonna turn us in?” Wilbur shielded Techno from the man’s sight. “Not like it hasn’t happened before…”

“Nah, that guy was a dick.” The man folded his wings back. “I’m Phil, what are your names?”

“You’re right, he was a massive dick.” Wilbur pocketed the coin bag, shoving it into the large pockets of his cloak. “I’m Wilbur, this is Technoblade. He’s from the Nether, so he can’t speak english as well as I can yet.”

“I can think better.” Techno glared at Wilbur.

“Oh, hello. You’re a piglin hybrid, right? You have an accent.” Phil waved slightly to the two as they introduced themselves. “I’ve been to the Nether quite a few times myself. It isn’t the greatest place for anybody.”

“Used to it.” Techno shrugged, backing up farther behind Wilbur.

“Yeah, that’s why he’s so mean. He’s my little brother now, so if you touch him I’ll stab you or something.” Wilbur crossed his arms, to which Techno rolled his eyes. It did make him smile though.

“Anyways, we met Phil when we were like eight and nine. I’d tell you how we eventually ended up living together, but that took two fucking years or something.” Wilbur waved his hand around before eating another slice of buttered bread.

Puffy had brought tons of different baked foods, ranging from breads to different kinds of cakes. She was good at cooking and baking from the looks of their dinner and their boxes of food. She reminded him of Phil, just a bit.

“Wow, you two were brats.” She laughed, readjusting the hat on her head. “I get it though, I grew up on a ship. I was a pirate, I haven’t been out to sea in years. It's hard growing up as a hybrid, even if it's a tad better now.”

Techno nodded, quietly contemplating whether or not to eat anymore food. “It’s worse if you’re from a different dimension, hard life to live. Especially learning how to speak differently, otherwise you get taken advantage of.”

“Yeah…” Puffy frowned, her body tense yet somehow she looked like she was trying to gently comfort both of them. “There’s a lot of reform that needs to be done. Especially for hybrid kids.”

She shook her head, getting up from her spot at the table. “I think I’ll take my leave now, I’ll try and visit after the whole arena thing tomorrow. Maybe I’ll help you cook again, Wil? It was a good time.” She waved a small goodbye. “Stay safe you two!”

She opened the door, closing it behind her softly. Techno sighed, almost immediately relaxing from it just being Wilbur and himself in the room. He liked Puffy, he just didn’t like people in general. Well, unless it was somebody he’d known for a long time.

“So what the fuck was that all about?” Wilbur startled him, his voice was unusually firm. It reminded him of Phil when he would reprimand them.

“About what?”

“Fuck off, you know what. You darted into the bathroom, you were in there for like a half hour, and then after that you were freaking out at the table before isolating yourself in the bedroom.” Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Puffy didn’t know or understand, but I saw it. Idiot.”

“I’m just tired, today was unnecessarily hard. It sucked.” He shrugged his shoulders like he was trying to get something heavy off of them.

“Is it the voices?”

Static filled his head, an anxious look towards Wilbur made him wring his hands together. “What? Can you repeat that?”

“I said, is everything alright?” Wilbur frowned, he was used to repeating things but he also looked worried. Techno shook his head slightly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Aw, damn, not you turning it around on me. Anyways, nah, usually no.” Wilbur smirked, bringing his legs up to cross them. Weird sitting positions were his specialty.

“Well, you were like that before. Any new discoveries?”

“Ah yeah, I’m unreasonably angry at Phil. He’s a dick for not being here for us yet.”

“Angry? I’m just concerned.” Techno shrugged. “I don’t think anything happened to him, but is he really looking for us? Or does he think we’ve just gone off on some adventure like we used to?”

“Nah, I don’t think he expects that from us anymore. He has us wrapped around his finger.” Wilbur laughed. “Not in a creepy way, just in like a parenting way.” His voice sounded taught and tense, like a pulled string.

“Yeah… I just hope he’s here soon. Just not for any of the fights, I don’t want him seeing me like that…” He crossed his arms on the table, laying his chin on them softly. “I don’t want you seeing that.”

“I mean, you’ve always been violent. Sure, maybe the ripping someone's throat out with your teeth is… unnecessary, but oh well.” Wilbur patted his shoulder. “I… I don’t actually know how Phil would react to that.”

“Heh, I think I do.” Techno slumped over. “Bad. It’d be bad.”

“Maybe. We’ll never know until. So, until then, let’s just get some rest. Alright?”

“Yeah, alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do little funky dance and then die! 🕺 i have so much homework due wtf
> 
> feel free to leave a comment. i appreciate them a lot! (:


	6. a bloody waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ehhhh tw: blood, violence, and ehhhhhhhhhhh (child abuse minorly)

Blood ran it’s way down his throat, it filled up his nose, bubbling out onto his lips. He brought a hand up to his nose, trying to steady his spinning world at the same time. A sword was held tightly gripped in his dominant hand, his knuckles white from the grip on it. 

He loosed his grip on it, it fell to the ground, his fingers hurt from holding it for so long. The ground was bloody, it clumped the dirt into red-tinted mud. The crowd was unnaturally quiet, what had they been expecting from him?

Again, he was hurting, his chest still ached from yesterday. Yet more and more injuries had been piled onto one already there. His shirt was soaked, in blood that was his, and also in other’s. He ran his tongue over his tusks, noting the chip in one of them. It flattened the usual sharp tip, it’d grow back just the same though.

The gate creaked open, he moved quickly, grabbing the sword that had fallen from his hands. He almost gagged, the smell of rotting flesh and the sight of empty eyes was in front of him. A mass amount of people, or what could’ve been people once. Milky white eyes locked onto him, he backed up with a whine, painfully aware of the gash in his leg.

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

_ Fight! _

_ Fight! _

_ Here we go again! _

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

_ Look at all of them. _

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

Techno tried to ease himself into the bloodlust, advancing carefully forward. Which must’ve not been the greatest idea considering the group of suncatchers started throwing themselves at him. The blood that leaked from their bodies was foul-smelling and dark in color.

It splattered his face, staining his skin in the off-color. He swiped at the bodies with his sword, so many eyes were on him now. Those who had an idea of what they were watching, those who came to watch a slaughter of either him or everything and everyone else in the arena. Those who weren’t right in the head anymore, consumed by madness and apocalyptic matters. Those who actively participated in the madness, those who started this palace of blood and terror. 

A waltz-like song played in his head, the voices drowning out any other sounds with a blood-lustful tune. He lost his balance from a sun-stricken man grabbing at his legs, burying his fingers into the wound on the back of his knee. Suddenly he was smothered by the bodies of the sick, he gagged at the smell, trying to wrestle himself out of the predicament.

His sword waved around wildly, slashing at movement and the people who were clawing at his face. If he had been fully in his own head, if he hadn’t been consumed by whatever primal need beckoned him to the sword, he might feel sorry for the people who had fallen by the blade in his hands. He shoved the sword through the ribs of a young boy, his age just about, twisting it he could hear the thunk and crack of them breaking. 

He climbed his way out of the pile, if climbing could be described as gutting a few people here and there. His clothing and hands were slicked with blood, it made it hard to hold onto his weapon. His head was filled with a loud sound of overlapping voices shouting and chanting all at the same time, the remaining horde stumbled after him.

Dawning more cuts, bruises, a hole in his side, and most likely some bite marks. He worked through the crowd, a twisted grin on his face, one he couldn’t help. To satisfy some urge, to finally get some peace from the voices in his mind. To make sure they were fed on other’s blood instead of his own, instead of being subjected to their taunts and their constant mind-breaking remarks.

Yet, after clearing out the rest of the suncatchers, he felt the need to draw more blood, more attention, more. Just more. He turned towards the crowd, jabbing at them through the chain dome, his eyes dulled over with bloodlust. Their screams of terror and laughter echoed through his ears with a dull beat of a drum.

_ Get em’! _

_ Look at them, they look like they’re enjoying themselves too much for the place. _

_ We’re a justified force of nature, they have no right for these games. _

_ Sink your blade into their necks, watch them bleed out like pigs. _

_ Pigs… he’s literally a piglin. _

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

He gave a breathy laugh at the crowd, they ran from him, running away from their seats when he got too close with his sword. They looked at him like he was a monster, he wasn’t a monster, they were. They laughed at the bloodshed of many, they weren’t even in the arena fighting, they had no right to find enjoyment in the fight of another.

If you were to enjoy fighting and drawing the blood of others, you should be the one doing it. Those who took it as a form of enjoyment, they who were detached from what reality was trying to whisper in their ears, weren’t anything close to what humanity was supposed to be.

Did that mean he was any better? Did his instincts and need to see the blood run from another’s body make him the same? His mind was running in circles, trapping himself in his thoughts. Unable to fully pay attention to what his actions were. Unable to see the sight of himself, to see the blood-covered child who was trying to murder a crowd of people inside a bird-like cage of chains.

He wasn’t able to see his father in the metal box above him, arguing with the speaker of the Colosseum.

“Holy shit! Look at him, he’s trying to kill my crowd!” Schlatt laughed, a crazed sound. “He looks like he’s going to fall off his feet, he can’t be that energetic after that whole thing!”

“What the hell, mate.” Phil ruffled his feathers, “Jesus, he’s lost his grip on whatever bit he had left that I cultivated.”

Phil shook his head, he was watching his adopted son stab at in his mind were for the most part innocent people. There were young children in the crowd, and what made him sick were the children on the ground in the arena. Brought in to be slaughtered just because their minds had been stolen by whatever the sun had given off now.

He watched his son growl in Piglin at the crowd, mumbling things he couldn’t hear well enough to translate. He watched him float his mind away on a lilypad, in the river of blood he’d made. He watched him try and grab at the people, almost scalping them with his grip on their hair.

The screams weren’t scared ones, they were ones of some sort of sick twisted amusement.

“What the fuck is he even saying? Is he cursing my fucking establishment or something?” Schlatt peered through the glass windows, his hands pressed against it.

“Just get him out of there, he’s just going to keep trying to murder the people in your crowd.”

“Yeah, yeah, but look at em’! They’re entertained by this shit!” He sat back, turning around in his chair to face Phil.

Phil cursed at the laughter echoing from the monitor playing a closer view of the “action.” It wasn’t the crowds he was picking out from the noise, it was Techno’s. 

He wasn’t happy with the boy, he was doing what he’d taught him not to. He had taught him to remain composed in fights, to not give into whatever instinct told him to. He knew that Techno had a problem with fighting, that he was easily lost to his thoughts in the blood. Yet he thought he’d made sure to get him to ignore whatever it was that trapped him in the cycle of bloodshed. Whether it was through physical methods or mental ones.

“I’ve sent guards in or whatever, since you’re in such a pissy fit.” Schlatt waved his hand around, now staring back at the monitor.

“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes, Schlatt.” Phil rolled his eyes, crossing his arms at the man.

Not to Phil’s surprise but as soon as the guards tried to pull Techno away from the crowd, they were attacked just like the others. Except this time Techno had opted out for no weapon at all, scratching at the guards like an animal.

This was also something he had taught him not to do. When Techno was younger he’d try and kill livestock they had on property, with his hands. Phil hadn’t given him a weapon for that exact reason, he didn’t trust him with one around Wilbur and himself. He tried his best to get the boy to stop ripping at the animals when he was in a fit. He had to put his hands on him more than once when he was younger.

“Oh fuck! Oh shit! Look at him go! Jesus Christ, Phil, you raised a little fucking war machine!” Schlat ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get him out of there, he’s just murdering my guards now!”

Phil gritted his teeth, disgusted at Schlatt's behaviour, his childlike giddiness about the violence being inflicted on his workers. “Let me down there, I’ll get him out.”

Schlatt grinned, “Really? For what cost? I'm going to be put out of business at this rate!”

“Nothing much, just that I’m taking the two and leaving your shit-hole of a colosseum.” Phil tapped his foot, trying to settle his feathers.

“See, I like your way of thinking most times, but you want to take away my cash-cow!” Schlatt shook his head a bit. “It can’t be helped can it? Alright old man, you get the kid out of my arena and you get him to calm his fucking bloody ass down. Yeah, I’ll let you get your mass murderer kid back.”

Phil shrugged, “Point the way.”

* * *

He stared at his hands, transfixed on the blood clotting before his eyes. Little cuts speckled his fingers, they slowly stopped the bleeding themselves. He was sitting with his legs crossed on the ground, in a nice pool of blood.

_ Blood. _

_ Blood for the Blood God. _

_ Blood. _

The voices echoed across each other, obviously craving what they’d been deprived of for the past few years. They consumed most of his thoughts, only leaving simple ones.

He flapped his hands around for a few seconds, trying to get the blood off as well as relieve his tension. A shuffle of boots on the ground alerted his attention, making him stand up to look around. He was met with Phil, not that he could recognize him enough, the bloodlust dulled his memory more than it was usually.

The sword that had been thrown absentmindedly next to him was grabbed, it hung limp in his grip. A small tilt to his head as he stared at his father-figure, unable to see past the blood that blinded him.

“Techno, put down the sword.” Phil crossed his arms, folding his wings neatly next to his body. A disappointed face as he looked Techno up and down. He was covered in blood and loose pieces of skin.

He made no acknowledgement to the man’s words, only furrowing his brow in frustration as well as confusion. He responded in Piglin, almost at a whisper,  _ ‘Are you mad? I’m tired… of people being mad.’ _

Phil shook his head, “I’m not responding to you in Piglin, snap out of it. Put down the sword.”

Techno stared at the gold earring that decorated Phil’s ear, entranced by the glow of it. The bright lights hit it just right, it caught his attention better than Phil himself did. He didn’t mean to drop the sword, it mostly just fell out of the loose grip he had it in.

“Techno…” Phil warned the piglin hybrid, who was approaching him. Not for any bad reason, he just wanted to look at the gold a little closer.

He tried to grab at it softly, only to be smacked away by a firm hand. Stumbling away he clasped a hand to his cheek, a little shaky with his movements. His heart fluttered in his chest, a soft whine escaped his mouth.

“Are you out of it yet? Wake the fuck up. We’re trying to leave this sorry place.” Phil made no movement or face at the action. No means to comfort him, leaving Techno to wonder why he was just hit.

_ He hit you. _

_ Not the first time. _

_ It’s been a while since the last time he did that. _

_ Is he angry? _

_ I think he’s angry. _

_ I don’t want him to be angry. _

_ ‘Are you mad at me?’  _ He asked again, mumbling over his words, he tried his best to focus on what or who was in front of him.  _ ‘Don’t be mad at me?’ _ Yet the voices still overlapped in the background, a quiet hum for blood was enough to distract him. To lose himself in.

“I’m not responding in Piglin, I already told you that. Snap out of it, Technoblade.” Phil spread out his wings, which made Techno stumble back farther, threatened by the sheer size of them. “Come here. We still have to grab Wilbur, you’re wasting our time.”

The blood loss made him hazier than he thought he should've been, not only that, English was too hard for his brain to comprehend right now. The language blended together in a mush of consonants and vowels he could understand. He had been thinking in Piglin for the past hour or so and the voices made it hard to switch to anything else.

Instead of Phil waiting for him. He walked towards Techno, which made him scramble back against the metal wall, making a crash sound from the contact. He slid down the wall, staring up at the man. His arm was grabbed, pulling him up to his feet. Techno made the motion to bite the man’s hand.

Phil let go quickly, pushing his face away. A concerned frown? Was it concern or was it disappointment? He tried to blink away the haze that covered his vision and thoughts, pulling at Phil’s kimono that he wore most days.

He nestled his face into the older man’s chest, trying to comfort himself in the familiarity of it. He let out a choked sob, slowly grabbing fistfuls of the man’s outfit, letting it crumple in between his fingers.

Feathers wrapped around him, darkening his gaze, arms wrapped around him just the same as the wings had. A hand patted his back, trying to comfort him. Techno sighed, the voices finally quieted themselves enough for him to focus on other things.

“Dad?”

* * *

Wilbur walked next to Techno, a worried expression on his face. The boy was covered in blood and other bits, as well as having his own wounds. They hadn’t thought to grab any potions or to clean him up.

They had stopped in a city, renting out a room. Their own home was too far away for now, and they all needed a rest. Techno obviously needed it the most. The boy had been slurring the very seldom and quiet words on the way there. He had been walking with a limp, wincing every few steps.

“Wil?” Phil called to him, they were supposed to be preparing a dinner. “Are you there? You’re supposed to be chopping up onions.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He was trying to focus on the task at hand, but Techno was worrying him.

“He’ll be fine. He’s had worse happen.” Phil shrugged, turning away from him, putting the stew meat in the pot. “I’m more annoyed with the fact that he completely blanked anything I told him about fighting while in that arena.”

Wilbur sighed, “I don’t blame him. I wasn’t in there so I don't know much, but there wasn’t exactly the cleanest of fights in there.”

“He had a weapon, he just kept throwing it away for his hands instead. I taught him better than that.” Phil shook his head, turning to look at Techno.

Techno stared ahead of himself, the wall looked warped in his eyes. He could feel the blood trickling down his side, down his shirt, soaking into the already blood-soaked shirt. Repetitive sounds, just small sentences in Piglin were repeated over and over again. Just as a way to center and calm himself.

“We need to bandage him up, I don’t have any potions on me. I didn’t expect to have to give him one.” Phil frowned, putting down his knife before walking over to Techno. 

Wilbur wiped his hands off on a towel to dry them after he cleaned them in the sink. The running water was nice at least. He grabbed a medical kit that was supplied in the bathroom of the hotel room.

“Please don’t.” Techno whispered to Phil, his head resting on their father’s shoulder. He was pale in the face, his eyes half closed.

“Well, we have to bandage you up so you don’t die from blood loss. You’ve got a gaping hole in your stomach, Techno.” Phil unbuttoned the red-stained dress shirt, hissing through his teeth at the sight.

Wilbur looked away while handing Phil the kit. He didn’t care for blood that much, especially if it was someone’s who he cared about. Techno kept mumbling in Piglin to either himself or Phil, Wilbur couldn’t tell unless Phil responded with a half-hearted mumble back.

“Stay still for now. If you need something to hold onto, just grab my shoulder.” Phil dipped a cloth in warm soapy water, before blotting at the stab wound in Techno’s side.

He gripped Phil’s shoulder with a pained grunt. The soap soaked into his flesh, making it feel almost like a burning sensation. He gritted his teeth together, as an urge to bite something arose. His eyes watered against his will.

_ ‘Stop.. I’ll be fine without it. Please?’  _ Techno stumbled over his words, pain had been slurring them already, but the rough cloth digging into the wound now made it worse.  _ ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.’ _

“You’re going to be fine. Just let me finish what I’m doing. I’m not angry right now. Just be quiet.” Phil started wrapping his stomach, making sure the fit was snug enough to keep the bleeding down.

He wasn’t so sure about Phil’s statement, not only that, the words still hurt his head to focus on for too long. He remembered how Phil looked at him, he put his face in the crook of Phil’s neck. Trying to comfort himself as well as ignore the lights that were hurting his eyes.

He coughed into his hand, it hurt his lungs to breathe afterwards. Phil had moved onto wrapping his leg, a firm expression on his face as he scolded him for moving. Wilbur had settled down next to him, taking a nap, the boy had been rather exhausted the past few days.

“Give me your arms real quick, I want to bandage them.” Phil held out a hand.

Techno held up his arm, letting Phil wrap the bandages around it. The small nicks and gashes barely blotted blood through them. As Phil worked on bandaging his second arm he felt his mind wander, a blank expression on his face. 

_ Hello again. _

_ Hello! _

_ We’re back! _

_ Sorry for making that all so hard. _

_ We had a good time though! _

_ You did too, right? _

_ ‘It was okay.’ _

_ Careful, Phil can hear you. _

_ He knows what you’re saying. _

_ ‘I don’t care anymore. He might as well know.’ _

_ You promised. _

_ Don’t forget your promise. _

_ ‘It’s a dumb one. I’m breaking it. You’ve already made it so I just start losing it anyways. Why should I care?’ _

_ He has a point. _

_ Why can’t Phil know? _

_ I like Phil. _

_ Phil is good. _

_ Right? _

_ Right. _

_ ‘Yeah, Phil is good.’  _ Techno frowned for a moment, a thought ran through his head softly, as though it didn’t want to alert him.  _ ‘Is he? He doesn’t listen sometimes.’ _

_ Listening would be nice. _

_ If only. _

_ He smacked you. _

_ It was for the better, no? _

_ ‘I don’t know. I’m tired.’ _

“Who are you talking to, Techno?” Phil was putting away the medical supplies before checking Wilbur’s temperature with the inside of his wrist.

_ ‘Mmm, voices.’  _ Techno crossed his arms before curling up next to Wilbur.  _ ‘They’re just talking right now, about you.’ _

“Oh?” Phil turned to him, “What are they saying about me?”

_ ‘They want to know why you don’t listen…’  _ Techno stared at his bandaged hands, tracing the lines of the bandages with his eyes.

“I listen, I just..” Phil ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just hard. You don’t listen very well sometimes.”

_ ‘I try to.’ _

“But you don’t try hard enough.”

Techno felt his stomach twist in an almost guilty way,  _ ‘Oh... I don’t?’ _

_ ‘No, but that’s okay. Kids don’t listen most of the time anyways.’  _ Phil ruffled the hair on the top of his head. Phil's Piglin was softer than his own, it carried a fatherly tone. 

Techno’s eyes started closing, he was tired. Wilbur was like a heater with his multiple layers over his sweater. The pressure of the bandages made him sleepy as well.

  
_ ‘Take a nap, Techie. You need sleep.’  _ Phil rested a hand atop his head for just a moment, letting Techno fall asleep before moving back into the kitchen. Dinner wasn’t going to make itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, just a reminder. this is not abt the streamers! just the characters from the dream smp! :>


	7. ranboo, my beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lul get rekt
> 
> shorter and nicer chapter this time. :>  
> welcome ranboo everybody, ty ty

Phil rested a hand against his cheek, actively contemplating his son’s words. Voices? How long had the kid been dealing with those? He had his own voices, yet over the years he had learnt to quiet them easier.

They would always be a distant hum in the back of his mind and seldomly it was easy or enjoyable to get lost in their conversations, but he hadn’t truly been plagued by them in a while. In fact, the last recollection of when he couldn’t quiet them was a few days before meeting Wilbur and Techno, although spending time with them had helped some. That was disregarding certain accidents that followed with their adoption and permanent home with him though.

Phil crossed his arms, standing a few feet away from the two sleeping teens, their faces for the most part in a peaceful slumber. Techno had a tendency to move around in his sleep, he was usually doing something while awake as well. The kid could never get into a comfortable sleeping position, nor did he have any luck actually staying asleep. He always seemed to wake up too early or to not get any sleep whatsoever.

The “voices talk,” made him reminisce about Ranboo, the boy had come to him distressed and in a panic. The lanky enderman hybrid had ranted and raved to him about the singular voice in his head. An almost sweet childlike madness had laced the young voice of Ranboo when he explained it to him. Something that reminded him too much of Techno, and Wilbur if he was really getting into it.

Wilbur had his own issues. He’d get into whatever trouble lay ahead of him, whether it be with or without Techno. The two were almost inseparable, unless Techno was having a fit. Yet, Wilbur always had a way with words, his talks were always to get something in return for the time spent. His motions, his fighting, Phil’s troubles with teaching the boy sword fighting. The kid wasn’t a natural at fighting, pickpocketing and looting maybe, but sword fighting and defending himself? No.

Flying was a different ballpark, he had picked it up in a few days. Most bird hybrids did, it was a genetic thing. When he’d gotten his primaries clipped in a fucked up run-in, he’d gotten almost as moody as Techno had when Phil took away his gold earrings for being snappy.

Phil was snapped back to reality when Wilbur’s eyes fluttered away. His usual bored yet relaxed look settled on Techno, who had been sleeping against his older brother’s side. Until he looked at Phil. His expression didn’t change much, but it was obvious that there was a clear difference between the way he looked at Techno and the way he looked at him.

“Is the stew done, or do I have to push him off of me really slowly so he doesn’t wake up?” Wilbur rested his arm on the armrest of the sofa, his hand cupping his chin.

Phil shrugged, turning to run a hand through his feathers. “Should be done soon. Just let him sleep, he obviously hasn’t gotten much of it.”

Wilbur nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. He gently pushed Techno away before taking off one of the coats Phil had given him. He laid it on top of Techno, who sighed contently even though he’d just lost the main source of heat at his side.

Phil smiled softly, he remembered the first winter they spent together in the ramshackle house they’d built over the spring and summer. Of course, it was better now, not rushed like it had been then. Techno hadn’t whined and complained about the cold, but Wilbur would bring him extra blankets or cuddle him without complaint. The two were keenly aware of the other’s needs, it took Phil a while to get on the same wavelength as the two. He had a nice time teaching the two how to make warmer winter clothing, as well as teaching Techno the basics of hunting considering Wilbur wanted nothing to do with it.

Speaking of the winter, Phil turned to Wilbur, who had moved to the stove watching the stew bubble about. “The cold front is going to move in soon, we’ll have to stock up.”

The boy turned to look at him, a solemn expression on his young features. “Yeah, Techno isn’t going to enjoy that. Oh well, guess we’ll have to get back soon and start up the whole hunting-gathering sess.”

Phil chuckled while holding one of the preened feathers in between his fingers. “He never enjoys it. It’s always unbearably cold the first few weeks of winter and it doesn’t really get better.”

Wilbur scrunched up his nose, “I like the cold sometimes. I prefer fall’s weather. Although, most of the time the seasons blend together easily.”

A hum in response marked the end of that conversation, an eased quiet took over the small room. Other than the mumbling Techno did in his sleep. It was always in Piglin.

* * *

They all sat at the table, its wooden top cluttered with dishes. Stew was cooling off slowly in the ceramic bowls in front of each of them. Techno was slumped over, his eyes still half-closed from sleeping. Wilbur was stirring the stew with a spoon, his wings stretching every now and then. Phil was reading a paper he’d gotten from a stand earlier.

Techno grumbled, his face tucked into his arms on the table. A hand reached up to grab the spoon from the bowl, his face turned to a frown at the thought of eating. Phil looked up from the newspaper to stare at him.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He drew his own bowl of stew closer to himself.

He shrugged, poking at the stew contents with his spoon. “Thinking about it.” His voice was hoarse, it had hurt to talk for long periods of time lately. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea right now.”

“Just eat it then, if you throw it up, you throw it up. Better to just eat it.” Wilbur was eating his dinner now, barely waiting to blow at the stew on his spoon before shoving it into his mouth.

Wilbur muttered a curse as he burned his mouth. Techno rolled his eyes, “Sucks to be so heat-sensitive, huh?”

“Shut up. I’m not the one who’s battered and bruised as fuck.” Wilbur used his spoon as a pointer, staring directly down it at Techno.

“Oh for fuck’s sake you two, that’s enough. Just eat your food.” Phil sighed, drawing a hand over his face.

“I’m not the one who got his wings broken by being an idiot.” He muttered under his breath, taking a bite of the stew afterwards.

“I’m not the one who had to be comforted for hours because of some crazy dream.” Wilbur glared at him.

“I’m not the one who was ranting to himself in the living room on the floor.” 

“I’m not the one who goes crazy after seeing blood.”

“Okay! Just eat your food!” Phil exclaimed, he looked exasperated. 

A quiet knock on the door made Techno’s stomach drop. There had been too many of those and too many different people to meet in the past few days. Phil raised an eyebrow before getting up to open the door.

A lanky teen stood in the doorway, his face almost split down the middle with two different colors. He had a messenger’s bag slung over his shoulder, his outfit was snugly fit and his face had been uncovered in the city. Fur lined the coat’s hood and the inside of it, it looked to be made of rabbit’s pelts.

“Oh, Ranboo, what’s the occasion?” Phil furrowed his brow, concerned for the young teen, it was late at night.

“I uhm,” Ranboo shuffled around anxiously, taking a letter out of his bag. “I have a letter to deliver for you, and they said you were in this room… so?” The boy held it out to Phil, who took it gently.

“Thanks,” Phil frowned before pocketing the letter. “Have you had dinner yet?”

The enderman hybrid shook his head. Phil invited the boy in, who was seated at the table next to Wilbur, right across the table from Techno. While Phil worked on washing a bowl for the boy, Techno and Wilbur greeted him, more so Wilbur than Techno.

“Hey Ranboo, how’s it going?” Wilbur turned to the boy, giving a little wave.

“Oh, uh! It’s been fine! I’ve just been doing deliveries?” The teen shuffled around, patting the bag to his side gently. “I haven’t seen you two lately, how have you been?”

“Oh, it’s been a great two weeks of murder and pain. The usual.” Wilbur smiled.

Techno rolled his eyes, pushing the bowl of stew away. Anxiety had rooted itself into his stomach, making it almost impossible to eat anything anymore. “Oh yeah, it’s been wonderful.”

Ranboo’s ears flattened to the side of his head, “Oh? Really, uhm… what happened?” The boy looked immediately uncomfortable with the response he got from his question.

“The usual kidnapping, bounty hunters, travelling, and funky bloody time.” Wilbur smiled, glancing towards Techno.

“Sure, that’s a terrible explanation, but sure.” He rested his head against the table. He wasn’t  _ that _ anxious around Ranboo, he was younger than him by a year or two and they’d known him for a while. 

Phil set a bowl of stew down on the table next to Ranboo, a spoon sticking out of the top. Ranboo smiled softly, “Thank you, it’s been a bit since I’ve actually gotten to sit down and eat something warm.”

Phil shrugged, “Such is the life of being a messenger. I expect Fundy is well?”

“Oh, uhm, yes and no?” Ranboo took a spoonful of stew. “He’s sick at the moment, so I have more work to do alone.”

“Really? Is he okay?” Wilbur frowned, the two weren’t that close anymore, but they used to be good friends. 

“He’ll be fine, it’s a small fever. He’s probably resting right about now.” Ranboo patted Wilbur’s shoulder gently.

“That’s fine then, tell him that we hope he gets well soon.” Phil had finished his stew, reading the paper he’d bought once again.

The table grew hushed except for the few whispers that came from the conversation between Wilbur and Ranboo. A wicked grin spread Wilbur’s lips apart, which was never really a good thing to see. At least he was having fun.

“Phil?” Techno stared at his father, biting the inside of his cheek. “Who’s the letter from this time? What about the letter we got from the bounty-keep?”

“It’s not really your business, Techno.” Phil shrugged slightly. “If you really want to know, both are from Sam and his two kids. We used to be better friends… but you know.”

“Oh, alright.” He turned away from Phil, back to Ranboo’s and Wilbur’s quiet discussion. He couldn’t help but feel the nagging sensation of being lied to, or was that just the anxiety?

“Wilbur… that’s illegal.” Ranboo said in response to Wilbur’s hushed whispers. Wilbur, who also had a grin on his face.

“No, no. It’s only illegal if they catch you.”

“No, I think it’s just illegal in general, Wilbur… is this why you three are never home?” Ranboo sighed, his face in a perpetual sigh almost.

“Yeah, Wilbur does dumb shit and we have to get him out of it.” Techno gave Wilbur a grin.

“Fuck off, you’re the one who became a mass murderer.” Wilbur flicked his forehead, reaching across the table.

“You did what?” Ranboo’s voice had a high note to it, he was stressed out.

“The usual, Ranboo. I already told you that!” Wilbur put his hands up innocently. “We got kidnapped, taken by bounty hunters to some funky arena place, and Techno did the usual blood-lust thing.”

“That’s just concerning,” Ranboo frowned.

* * *

Ranboo had been given a blanket and a pillow for the floor where he was now asleep. Which was a little disturbing, considering the kid had no eyelids, so his pupils just rolled into the back of his head while he slept.

Phil was preening Wilbur’s wings by the small fireplace. For the hotel room being small, it was nicer than what they could’ve stayed in. The silence was nice, there wasn’t anybody talking but the presence of others was comforting enough.

Techno laid on his back, reading out a book in his head, enjoying the little quips and exclaims from the chatter in his head. They were alright sometimes, they just had the tendency to be overwhelming. At least they enjoyed the reading as much as he did.

Wilbur was keenly interested in the small tv in the corner, it’s soft blue glow was lighting up the dim room. It’s volume was quiet enough to let Ranboo sleep but noisy enough for it to interrupt Techno’s reading more than once. He couldn’t even focus on what was being said, it was just the fact that there was talking.

“I’m all done, your wings should be good for the next few days or so. Your primaries are coming back in nicely, it's a shame they were clipped in the first place.” Phil brushed a hand over Wilbur’s wings, a sad frown pulling at his lips.

Wilbur gave a little shrug, “Meh, I didn’t fly much anyways, it’s been too cold.”

He had moved closer to the fireplace, preferring the almost burning heat than the cold wood floor. It reminded him of when he was much younger, before he’d ever met Wilbur, before he’d even known of the Overworld. He was so little then, the chatter was the only constant in his life, it had just gotten easier to block them out when Phil didn’t let him do much. 

_ Fire! _

_ Woooooo! _

_ I miss all the fire. _

_ It was nice and warm there. _

_ A lot more interesting. _

_ Meh, it was a lot more unwelcoming though. _

The chatter wasn’t wrong. The Overworld was rather dreary, there were a few different biomes, but they didn’t have the odd flair that the Nether’s did. Yet it was also very harsh in it’s living environments, and the locals weren’t exactly the most refined.

He remembered the time Phil and him went on an adventure to the Nether for a few hours, just to grab more nether wart. Phil had wanted to brew potions, found that he was all out, and immediately wanted to build a nether wart farm. 

He had Techno come along for fun, leaving Wilbur at home, who had been napping as usual. Wilbur had a tendency to either sleep all day or do multiple different things in a chaotic force. It was all in all a good time, it was nice to show things Phil hadn’t seen before. Or to talk fluently in Piglin to another being again. Although Phil knew Piglin, he just never spoke it in the household, it definitely made Techno feel a bit disconnected at times.

As long as you wore enough gold around Piglins you’d be good to go. It was a sign of status and a sign to respect you. Most of the time young Piglins only wore a single gold ring due to their age. However, young brute Piglins would wear tusk rings as soon as they started growing in. Most other species would opt out for gold armor, which mostly just made Piglins treat you like they would an armored Piglin, a defender.

Techno usually wore his gold earrings and tusk rings, they were nostalgic and made him feel closer to home in the Overworld. While Phil worked through a Nether fortress, he had wandered around the surrounding area, catching up with the locals, they had a bastion a few tunnels away. They had assumed he was a lone Piglin and gave him directions. While he opted out to not tell Phil, he didn’t want to disrupt the Piglins or to find out that Phil would want to raid them.

He didn’t have much of a problem with raiding rival bastions while he was in his mothergroup of Piglins, but it was different with Phil there. Maybe if Wilbur was there as well they’d have been their own group.

Techno looked up to Wilbur more so in the sense emotionally-wise. He was an older brother to him, they were only a year or so apart, but he felt so much younger than the other boy. Of course, Phil was the leader of the group, he’d listen to him whenever. Just for the praise he’d get from the man. It reminded him too much of when he was just growing his tusks in. 

_ You forgot about the book… _

_ We’re all for the family dynamic, but… can you finish the chapter? _

_ I’m tired, finish the chapter. _

Techno scoffed, rolling his eyes. How impatient, he was very busy getting caught up in the past. Slowly he began the book’s page he was on again, having to look over the past few pages to rejog his memory though.


	8. wait a minute... that's kinda weirdchamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood, yelling, vomit < a usual in my story for some reason.

“Techno!” Phil walked towards him, his arrow still notched on the bow’s string. He didn’t look happy. “You keep spacing out, do I need to have Wilbur with me instead?”

He tried to blink out of the haze, he was having a hard time focusing today. It had been hard to just get out of bed that morning as well. The lack of focus combined with the aching wounds and bones made it hard to do much.

He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by his father anyways. “Just… just go on home. Have Wilbur come out and help me. You can get dinner ready as long as you actually remember not to burn the house down.”

Techno rubbed the back of his neck, he felt sick to his stomach. He nodded, gripping his bow’s handle tightly.  _ He was so stupid. _ Why couldn’t he just focus on the damn hunting trip? Or focus on literally anything?

He opened the door with a click, Wilbur was sitting on the couch, reading a book he had already read more than twice. He set down his bow on the floor next to the door, quickly shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t feel like talking, he just felt bad. Why did he feel so anxious about people’s reactions? It was just so nauseating to think of somebody he cared about hating him and his brain did that a lot.

“Uh,” Techno cleared his throat softly. “Dad said to join him hunting a few yards west into the forest.”

Wilbur turned his head towards him, “What? Why? I hate hunting, aren’t you supposed to be doing that?”

He shrugged, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I couldn’t focus on it, I guess. Just go with him, please?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Wilbur got up from his seat, tossing the book to his side. “Alright, but you owe me one.”

The taller boy threw on his fur-lined coat, leaving the warm house with a thud from the door. Techno sighed, rubbing his arms to comfort himself. There wasn’t a real reason to wanting to do so other than to make him feel a tad better.

_ Snap out of this facade. _

_ Snap out of this dream you’ve put yourself in. _

_ This is wrong. _

_ This isn’t what has happened. _

_ Why are you stuck here still? _

He rubbed at his hands, trying to warm them up as well as ignore the talking in his head. They were wrong. He was fine. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing had happened.

_ You know this isn’t right. _

_ Stop playing pretend. _

_ You need to face the truth. _

_ Facing the truth is the only way to proceed. _

_ You’re being a fool. _

_ Acknowledge what you’ve done. _

Acknowledge what? Why would he want to do that? It hurt. Everything hurt for no reason at all.

This was wrong. This was all wrong and he knew it, yet he didn’t want to leave whatever reality his brain forced himself into. He didn’t want to recognize the fact that this was all incorrect.

_ Don’t act dumb with us, Technoblade. _

_ We’ve raised you more than Phil ever had. _

_ We’ve been with you for longer than Wilbur, longer than you’ve had the self-consciousness to do anything. _

Stop it. What had he done so wrong?

_ Snap out of it. _

_ Now. _

_ We’re done with the facade. _

He never meant to. He didn’t want to. It wasn’t his fault.

They were just so loud.

Why were they always so loud?

Why did they feel the need to ruin his life? To ruin whatever Phil thought of him. To ruin the lives of others so bad?

_ Phil doesn’t know how to get through to you. _

_ We do. We’re always here. _

_ Get out of your head. _

_ This is selfish. _

_ Face what you did. _

_ Face whatever he has to say to you. _

He shot out of the bedsheets he was wrapped in, a gasp making a noise before it crumpled inwards into a whine of pain. A startled Phil stumbled back from the position he was in, knocking away the chair next to the bed. He was presumably resting his head against the foot of the bed. Techno stared at his arms, bandages wrapped around them just like his dream?

“Jesus fucking christ!” Phil’s wings were ruffled up, making him look like a spooked chicken. “Holy shit! Oh for the love of the Gods… at least you’re awake now.” The man was trying to catch his breath from being spooked enough to make him jump away.

Techno looked around lazily, his head felt oddly quiet. Not only that, it felt foggy and stuffy, like he had been out of it for too long, like he’d been bleeding out for long enough for it to get to his head.

“Settle down. You’re going to aggravate whatever injuries you have.” Phil repositioned his chair, sighing before sitting back down. “What the fuck did you do? I found you in a bloody fucking mess, what the actual fuck.”

“I-” He coughed into his arm, he felt terrible, why did his lungs hurt so bad? Why couldn’t he breathe?

He tried gasping for air but was only met with the blood in his throat. He hacked up whatever amount of it that made it into his lungs. Phil just sat there, watching him choke on his own blood.

It dripped from his mouth onto the white bedsheets, staining them with the mucus and blood concoction. He couldn’t move without feeling his body shake under the pain, stress, and weight of his own body. His hair hung over his face, blocking a few parts of his view. Why was it so long?

“I’m waiting.” Phil’s voice gave him chills, it twisted his stomach into too many knots for him to count. “I want to hear it from you.”

He struggled to catch what little breath he’d caught in his grasp. The tone of Phil’s voice didn’t help with whatever panic had caught him though. It made sure to tighten its grip on his throat whatever chance it got. The sheets had been crumpled in his hands, trying to steady himself.

His whole body just hurt. Why did he hurt so bad? What was going on? Where was he anymore?

“For fuck’s sake, just say something! Say anything! You’ve been out of it, mumbling to yourself for the past week!” Phil brought his fist down on the nightstand next to them.

Techno jolted backwards, which aggravated whatever injuries had been taunting him with their pains ever since he awoke. He gripped the baggy dress shirt around his chest, desperately trying to answer Phil. Only able to sputter out whines of pain and do his best to choke back sobs of frustration and fear.

This made him hack up whatever settled itself in his throat and lungs once again. His eyes blurred with just the rattling force of the coughing, it hurt his chest. Through the coughing he choked out sorries and pleas to Phil, the older man’s anger scared him. A better word would be that it terrified him.

“I’ll come back when you can get a word or two out.” Phil shook his head, which was enough for the pit in his stomach to wriggle it’s way further in. “Try not to choke on your own spit while I’m gone. Wilbur is in the next room, call for him if you need anything.”

The door shut with a slam, Phil had left, leaving him alone to gasp for whatever air he could. Breathing hurt, he could feel his ribs try to pierce his lungs. A tight bandage constricted the movement of his chest, which didn’t help with the lack of air. He could just feel the blood seeping through the bandages, it felt sticky and wrong.

With shaky hands, he ran his fingers through his hair. Trying to soothe himself as well as focus on anything, something, just something to help him recognize his surroundings. The room was a soft blue, it was smaller than his and Wilbur’s. It had nothing in it really, except for the bed he was in and the nightstand that was next to him.

The nightstand’s contents were bland. A lamp sat atop of the small table, as well as a glass of water. He gulped down the tall glass of water, which turned out to be a bad idea. Now he was in pain, struggling to breathe, and he was going to throw up. At least his throat was clearer now?

_ Ah, he’s awake. _

_ That’s good. _

_ He looks terrible. _

_ Mmmhm. _

_ Phil is mad at you. _

_ No shit. _

The voices pounded against the walls of his skull, making his barely noticeable headache turn into a bone-shattering migraine. He groaned, resting his head softly in his hands, the bandages rough against his skin. With a gag he moved to get up, instantly woozy on his feet.

He grabbed the chair next to the bed for support, somehow just walking made everything worse. In fact, he hadn’t expected the lurch his vision did which made him trip on nothing, and fall to the floor. The sudden movement made him both gag on his own blood and almost cry in pain due to the large gash in his side.

Retching the water and blood from his stomach up onto the floor, he backed up. Trying to support his unnaturally heavy body against the bed frame. Footsteps and the sound of a door unlatching made him sit up too fast from the slumped position he was in.

Everything was foggy, and the sounds of the chatter and his surroundings made everything hurt so much more.

“What the actual fuck. Why am I the one left home with you? Sam definitely could have babysat. C’mere.” Wilbur was in his obnoxious yellow sweater, which was terrible. It was too bright for any occasion.

The boy hooked his hands under Techno’s arms. Which would’ve been a good idea apart from the fact that it felt like his arms were coming off when he did so. A sharp cry of pain was made, in which Wilbur immediately stopped in his tracks.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sorry.” Wilbur ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to get you back into the bed though. Just bear with me for a moment?”

With that, he grabbed him under the arms again, lifting him up onto the bed within a few excruciating seconds. After being set down on the bed, he curled up on himself, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side and chest. He had an arm around his stomach and a hand gripping the pillow underneath his head.

“I’m sorry, Techno.” Wilbur crossed his arms, not to be rude, but to comfort himself from the look of it. “I… Dad just didn’t want to give you a potion.”

The boy turned around, grabbing a few towels, cleaning the vomit from the floor with a grimace. Techno groaned into the pillow, blood felt like it was making its way up his throat, just to spite whatever life he had left in him.

_ Phil didn’t want to give you a potion? _

What would he do that for, if for other than the fact that he was angry. He did something, he just couldn’t remember. That was always the way it was, wasn’t it? He could never actually figure out what he had done that made Phil so mad.

It was always something that the voices did, something that the voices urged him to do. The overlapping and overwhelming amount of them made it easy for them to make him do things. To hurt things.

The bed lurched under the weight of Wilbur, which made Techno inwardly groan at the pain in his side once more. “Uhm, so… I don’t know what you said, but Phil was baby-raging when he left the room, so?”

“Didn’t say anything.” He choked out the few words, the few syllables, the few sounds that it took to speak. 

“Oh yeah, that would do it. You’ve been out of it for almost a week and a half now. You had this fever and everything, but Phil still wouldn’t give you a potion.” Wilbur waved his hand around. “Something about wanting you to face the consequences of your actions.”

“That’s great… Wil,” Techno bit back the bile that decided to make itself known right as he was speaking.

“Listen, I could just leave, but I’m rather interested in why dad brought you home looking like a fucking murderer cat.”

“Rude.”

“Listen, alright? I’m used to you having gone out and doing whatever you do before coming back home looking like a serial killer. I help clean you up and Phil is none the wiser, but that time wasn’t like the others. You were beat to shit.”

“Mmmhm.”

“I’d prefer something more than a few noises as a response. I’m not getting a lot to work off of he..re..?” Techno looked up to see the almost melting figure of his brother. Blood spilled from his eyes, or the lack of eyes.

His skull and face were peeling back like a crudely chopped up apple, under each layer was another and another and another. Techno backed up, finding himself up against a wall, staring straight into the bloody eye sockets of his brother.

And in his hands, his always bloodied hands, rested his sword.

A gurgling sound came from the creature in front of him, something that he wasn’t sure was even his brother, was it really even real? It splattered blood across his face, the neck of said creature peeling open just like it’s face.

The room suddenly became a bright white, the blood staining the walls next to him.

The figure oozed into a puddle of blood and chunks of flesh. He clasped his hands over his mouth, trying to keep himself from making any noise. The chatter was back.

_ Everything you touch. _

_ Everything you love. _

_ Everything you’ve ever had the chance to be around. _

_ Everyone you interact with. _

_ Everyone you love. _

_ Everyone you’ve ever had the chance to know. _

_ They all crumble and bleed beneath your hands. _

His surroundings changed once more, a black stage beneath him. A skeleton held his hand and waist, drawing him close in for a waltz. It whirled him around, flinging him towards another and another. They all turned, tossing and turning him towards skeleton after skeleton. He couldn’t recognize any of the new surroundings before being whirled into a stance, sword in hand once again.

Phil stood before him, his arms crossed. A disappointed frown covering his features, his wings stretched out to their full length. He backed up, only to be met with a wall of laughing skulls. Their teeth clattered, tugging at his clothing and his skin.

He didn’t notice Wilbur to his right until he moved away from the wall. A look of pity on his face, a look of concern, and a look of content joy all flashed on his face more than once. All before they settled on a frown, just like Phil’s.

Phil drew out his sword, there was no glare on the blade, the whole area was almost pitch black, other than an unknown light source that wasn’t really light itself. The man approached him, his sword held out in front of Techno, it rested just below his ribs.

He had been stabbed, except now he was falling farther and farther into the unknown ruins of his mind. The sword nestled inside his stomach, blood dripping around the edges, falling into his hands.

_ As you watch yourself fall into the infinite, do you ever wonder? _

_ Do you ask yourself how you’ve gotten here? _

_ Do you crave the answers to the universe? _

_ The reasoning behind all that has happened thus far? _

_ We wonder as well, for we do not have such information at the ready. _

_ As much as we wish we did. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more chapters tonight, they are shorter for a reason.


	9. hmm.. peculiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: an animal dies lol and small amount of blood
> 
> bro i fell asleep lmaooo here's the second part to the 8th chapter. i just wanted to split them so this chapter is like 1880 words.
> 
> the plot actually progresses next chapter, and its gonna be a long one. so it might take a few days for me to actually get it out. :>

He jolted awake again, this time nobody was around. With a few coughs into his arm, blood once again staining the dress shirt around his body, he sat up straighter.

The pain in his side was a dull throb as he looked about, desperately trying to focus on his surroundings after being rightfully disoriented. How long had he been falling? Nausea had settled its roots in his gut, waves of it crashing against himself. 

The door to the bedroom unlatched, Wilbur walked in with a cup of water. Setting it on the nightstand before crashing onto the bed with a grin.

“Good morning, Technoblade! You’ve been asleep for forever and Phil left this morning to walk Ranboo home. So, I’ve been bored as fuck!” Wilbur rested his head on his arms, kicking his legs about off the edge of the bed.

Techno sighed, his mind was unraveled from the nightmare he’d just woken up from. Was it a nightmare? Was it something his mind thought would be a good idea to show or tell him? After all, none of his dreams were ever really dreams. There was always some form of his consciousness in them.

“Mornin’ Wil.” Techno brushed the hair out of his face with a hand, although the stabbing pain under his arm made it hard to do so.

“You should really work on your responses. You are killing my conversation starters.”

“Small talk is dumb, just talk about whatever.” Techno shrugged, which was a terrible idea. He laid back down with a stifled grunt.

Wilbur frowned, which almost made him flinch. Just almost. “We’re going to walk home today, it's colder out so dad is going to buy you a coat while he’s out. Y’know since you lost yours.”

“Yeah, sure. Just how you lost yours?”

“Ah, fuck off.” Wilbur jumped up from the bed, wandering around the room. “I’m gonna go eat something, sick boy.” He gave a little salute before scampering out the door, slamming it shut.

Ugh, did he have to do that all the time? The noise rang out throughout his brain and ears long after it had left the room. The bed beneath him was nice enough at least. Although the stained bed sheets weren’t a great touch. Why were they stained? Whose blood was it?

A foggy disorienting haze had his vision go all haywire, it made him want to shut them, just for a moment.

Just for a while.

...

That was, until he wasn’t in the place he last remembered being in. His bow was gripped tightly in his hands again, Phil to the right of him, just a few yards away. He notched his arrow, just to be sure. Just to have some sort of familiarity with his surroundings. Just to bring him out of whatever funk he’d gotten himself into. For now, he’d be in the moment, he’d have time to think of what was going on and what had just happened a little later.

Phil had spooked a deer towards him, having it run at just the right angle for a clean and clear shot. Drawing back the bow’s string, making sure it was taught and able to fire far enough to hit. He let go of the arrow, it whizzed through the air before landing in the eye socket of the animal.

It fell to the ground with a thud. Techno stayed back, shuffling away from the kill with Phil, he led them to another spot. They would wait there for a while, hopefully catching another before going to claim the other kill.

* * *

Why was everything so cold? It was nasty. Sure, he liked the snow, he liked the cold in small increments, he could enjoy it. It helped him calm himself down, it bit at his skin, it made him focus on something different from the overlapping chatter in his head. Yet, the cold could also make everything harder, it could shove his psyche deeper and farther down into his own mind. Letting him lose himself farther.

At least the repetitive motions of skinning the deer helped some bit. Although Phil made sure to stand awkwardly close to him, watching his small movements and quirks of the task as he did it. It made doing such a bloody task rather uncomfortable in the long run. He couldn’t help but feel that Phil didn’t exactly trust him with a knife in his hands.

If he was being honest, the blood that seeped out from underneath a few of the nicks from his blade was a  _ bit _ distracting. It made the voices grow just a  _ little _ louder, a  _ little  _ easier to give into. Phil took the blade from him as Techno’s movements slowed, his hand crumpled under the firm grip Phil now had on the handle.

Although he had been gently pushed away by his father, he still felt like he had done something wrong. Could Phil see how much the arena had taken a toll on him? Or was he just acting as he always had? Doing tasks and chores that he never trusted Techno enough to do in the first place?

Or how Wilbur was cooking in the house and Techno had been left to do virtually nothing but get caught up in his thoughts like always? Was it that hard to see that he  _ needed _ to be busy?

_ Phil has always been like this. _

_ He tried his best to get you to be calm? _

Oh of course, the whole “ignore your problems until they go away” thing. It had worked, he supposed. It worked enough to give him a few years of peace, a few years without having to listen to the chatter in his head. Until things got bad and he was subjected to stress on both his body and Wilbur’s. Until he was forced to fight in that bloody mess of an arena. How was he supposed to calm down?

How was he supposed to calm down when everything and everybody around him in that stupid arena wanted to see his blood spilled on the ground? How was he supposed to  _ know _ how to calm down, when he was never taught?

Or the sun, the great big lump of fire in the sky that was almost 100 million miles away from them, yet it still didn’t generate enough heat to warm the Overworld. He couldn’t help but miss the Nether, even if it meant that Wilbur and Phil wouldn’t be there. It would be so much easier than having to remember all the rules, and the well-known fact that the sun could take away what most people held dear to their hearts. Their sanity.

In fact, he could feel it taking away his. Sure, he’d been covered up now, but what about a few weeks ago? When those bounty hunters just left them in the sun while they were doing what? Probably something stupid like partying or turning in other bounties. But it was there, it was still there.

He could see it in Wilbur’s face, the internal struggle of power over his mind. Why wouldn’t he talk to him? Was he not good enough to confide in anymore? Had he talked to Phil about it, or was he just trying to deal with it on his own? Did Wilbur trust Phil more than he did him?

There were plenty of stories of recovery, but they weren’t for the people who had been already lost to it. It was just the hardship of starting, the struggling to put the feeling of madness in words, the sheer daunting task of explaining it to Phil left him feeling empty and broken just a little bit more.

At least they were going to travel soon. They always did. They’d go a few hundred miles or so to the west, just to get to the bigger city. It was nice there, they even owned a heated home. It was only for the winter and emergencies. Maybe this was an emergency, not only for the winter.

Maybe Phil did see, maybe he was aware. He’d been trying to give Phil hints about his mental health. He just never seemed to catch on, or was it just ignorance? The feeling that if he ignored it, it would right itself out eventually. Something just like what he taught Techno. Something that made talking about things so much harder, it made it hurt.

Wilbur was never like that. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, until he didn’t. It used to be so easy. Or was it him?

Was he the one having a hard time? Was he the one projecting onto his family? Were the glares from Phil a figment of his imagination? Were they just something he was making up so he could blame somebody else for the reason of his untimely mental demise?

“Why are you just standing there? You look like a haunted soul.” Phil had looked up from his work, he had turned to look at him.

If only his father would ask if he was okay. Why did he never ask? Why did he expect him to be so mature about things? To never have problems? Despite his mature nature, which was something taught. He was just a kid.

“M’ fine, I was just thinking.” Terrible answer, A+ for trying though. Phil was just going to brush it off like always now, that’s how it usually went.

“Well, if you’re just thinking, you could be just helping Wil in the kitchen. Like I asked you to? Didn’t you hear me?” Phil shook his head, further burying the twisted feeling of guilt and shame in Techno’s stomach. “I have this handled, just go help your brother with dinner.”

A nod was the only response before backing away towards the house. He kept his eyes on Phil for a few seconds, just before turning around. At least the house would be warm.

* * *

“Here Techie, lemme have the knife.” Wilbur held out his hand. Why did nobody trust him with knives? He wasn’t nine anymore.

“Sure? I could easily cut up the chicken myself though.”

The knife was passed between them, although Techno’s eyes did linger on it a bit longer than he thought was a normal amount. He wasn’t going to do anything bad, in fact cutting up the chicken might’ve been the better option for him. Instead he got to peel potatoes, with a peeler.

He didn’t exactly hate the task, it was easy to get lost in, nice and repetitive motions. The good kind of task, if it wasn’t so fucking boring. It let his mind wander, which he would’ve been fine with, but lately the wandering wasn't the nice kind.

He found himself replaying his time in the arena, not for many reasons other than the fact that he felt sick whenever he did. Like he was subconsciously subjecting himself to the horror of his actions again and again. As you do. 

Oh well, those potatoes weren’t going to peel themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> so anyways. the upload consistency is gonna be WILD, i have adhd, idk what y'all want from me. :|


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